Scandal
by chromeknickers
Summary: Ginny Weasley has dedicated her life to protecting the public images of the wizarding elite, making sure that their secrets never get out. But with Draco Malfoy constantly interfering in her life's work, it makes for surprising scandals of her very own.
1. Ginger in a White Dress

This story was written for **rowan-greenleaf** (see prompt below) in the DG Forum's Summer 2013 Fic Exchange. Many thanks to my lovely beta, Kim (Boogum).

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**SCANDAL**

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"YOU REMEMBER EVERYTHING I told you?"

Cormac McLaggen didn't respond right away. He was too busy gazing at his own reflection in the mirror, making sure his hair was perfectly coiffed and there were no bits of food stuck between his teeth.

"Cormac!" Ginny thumped the blond in the back of the head and then flashed a winning smile to those nearby.

"Wot?"

Cormac tore his gaze away from his own reflection and turned to stare at Ginny in utter bewilderment. She was about to repeat her question when she noticed his tie was half undone. Exasperated, she snapped her fingers for him to come and he wasted no time sauntering over.

She grabbed his tie and began looping it back in place while Cormac offered her a charming smile that probably made most young women swoon. Ginny, however, was far from flustered. She had known Cormac since school. She had even dated him once a few years back. It wasn't exactly a proud moment or something she ever liked to acknowledge.

Sure, anyone with a working pair of eyes could see that Cormac McLaggen was handsome. He was tall with a fit Keeper's build, marvellous curly hair you wanted to spear your fingers through and full kissable lips. But he was also an idiot and a womaniser: two reasons why he was in this mess to begin with.

"I don't believe I've told you how fetching you look tonight, Ginny," Cormac said, grinning as he took in Ginny's attire.

She was wearing a backless floor-length ivory gown with a strapless sweetheart neckline that showcased her rather impressive décolletage and a pair of matching four-inch heels. Her copper red hair was done up in an elegant braided French twist adorned with small peach roses and on her ears were a pair of rose-shaped chandelier earrings.

"Uh-huh." Ginny easily waved off his flattery. From the moment she took on Cormac as a client he had been trying to charm the knickers off her, but Ginny had made it perfectly clear that she was here on business, not pleasure. "Cormac, you're about to walk into the lion's den. All those people out there care about is putting you on the front page of their tabloids."

His smile instantly faded and he cleared his throat, pulling down his jacket with a frown. Ginny couldn't help but sigh, wiping invisible lint off his clothes. She wasn't going to sugarcoat his situation. She wasn't there to hold his hand and tell him everything was going to be okay. She was there to fix things, and most of the time that meant issuing a verbal slap to the face.

"Now, do you remember everything I told you?"

He nodded. "If anyone brings up Amanda, I say 'no comment'."

"And if they persist?"

"I, uh, draw their attention to the fundraiser I'm holding for Sick Kids at St Mungo's. If that doesn't work, I'm to call for security and am escorted back to the hotel."

"Good. You do _not_ answer any questions concerning your pending case without your solicitor present, and never maintain a conversation for longer than two minutes. You'll sit down and have dinner, joke with the guys and talk about Quidditch, dance with your mum and then you'll call it a night." Ginny's brown eyes narrowed and she pointed a slender finger at his chest. "No night clubbing, Cormac. You hear me?"

The blond curled his lip but otherwise nodded in acquiescence.

"You have a scheduled meeting with the Magical Law Enforcement tomorrow at nine—that's nine _AM_, Cormac. From eleven to one you'll be visiting the children's ward at St Mungo's, signing autographs and taking pictures. There will only be one photographer-slash-reporter present, so you're to keep focus on the kids, not yourself. No press conferences—not until we've fully settled with Amanda and her parents."

"Do you really think this is going to change anyone's opinion about me, Ginny?" He lowered his voice to a whisper, "They're calling me a paedophile."

Ginny exhaled sharply and looked up into Cormac's sad green eyes. He was a good guy, really, but he was also a flirtatious idiot who made most of his decisions with his penis. That really didn't make him much different from any other man, but he was a celebrity, a pro-Quidditch player who people looked up to, and now he was the centre of a controversy. That controversy was Amanda Turner.

Amanda Turner was a seventeen-year-old witch whose parents had accused Cormac of taking advantage of their underage daughter. Cormac had met Amanda at a pub a month back and, after a few drinks, had invited the girl to his hotel room to discuss Quidditch. Amanda had been sixteen at the time, and while there had been no intercourse, her parents believed she had been taken advantage of and wanted Cormac arrested for sexual harassment of a minor.

"We all make stupid mistakes, Cormac. Miss Turner lied about her age. And while you shouldn't have invited her back to your hotel room, _for whatever reason_, you did nothing wrong. At the end of the day you realised you had executed poor judgement and you've learnt from it. Right?"

"Right."

Cormac's name was suddenly announced and the applause picked up. Ginny fooled around with his tie one last time, making sure it was straight, before stepping out of his way. Cormac walked towards the entrance of the grand ballroom but stopped to look over his shoulder at her. Ginny smiled and started clapping, hoping that would spur him on.

As Cormac began his running of the gauntlet, a muffled ringing noise caused Ginny to jump, almost tearing the side of her gown up the length of her thigh in the process. Muttering a few colourful expletives to herself, she fumbled inside her clutch and retrieved a hand-sized mobile phone. It was one of three prototype magical devices her friend Justin Finch-Fletchley had made, and it always startled the hell out of her whenever it rang.

Walking a short distance away from on-lookers, Ginny turned her back to the crowd and clicked a button, bringing the phone to her ear. "Hullo?"

"Ginny, it's Theo."

"What's the emergency?"

"I've got a new client for you. Meet me at Draco Malfoy's penthouse in thirty minutes. I'll brief you when you get here."

Ginny hung up the phone and stuffed it back in her clutch. She turned around and watched as Cormac successfully fended off the paparazzi and threw a brawny arm around fellow Keeper, Oliver Wood. The two were laughing, obviously talking shop, and she let out a relieved sigh. He'd be okay without her for a little while.

Currently Ginny Weasley had bigger fish to fry.

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THE BANGING WOKE him up first.

"What the—"

Draco jolted awake, his adrenaline pumping as eyes adjusted to the darkness. He lifted his head from the pillow and glanced about, his long white-blond hair tangling around his face.

There was some sort of banging coming from somewhere in the penthouse, possibly the front door. Or was it heels coming up the stairs? His head was still disoriented and garbled from sleep and chaotic images flashed through his mind. His eyes darted wildly about the room and he saw that Inés was still naked and noodled against his side in deep slumber. She was snoring softly, her sunflower-blonde hair fanned across his chest, and he frowned.

If she wasn't making that racket, then who was?

"Rise and shine!" The doors to his bedroom were thrown wide open. "_Se lever et briller_!"

"_Q-quoi_?" his blonde companion stuttered in alarm, covering her breasts with the bed sheets while blinking blearily in the semi-darkened room. "_Qu'est-ce qui passe_?"

The shadowy female figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, she walked across the room and drew back the curtains, pushing open the windows to let in the mild late-spring air and the sounds of the city park below.

"Get up!"

Draco was flummoxed, still trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Who was this woman and how did she get into his home? And why hadn't the wards sounded in alarm? He had more wards set up in this place than Hogwarts.

The only reason he wasn't reaching for his wand and blasting this stranger into oblivion was the fact that such an act would have been damn-near impossible. Aside from the security wards, his entire penthouse suite minus the adjacent rooftop pool were completely magic-free. No one could use magic here, including the strange woman who had just barged into his room.

Suddenly the shadowy figure was gone from the window and then back again. Something mildly heavy but soft was thrown across his chest and Draco lifted it up with a grunt. A dressing gown?

"Get up, Malfoy."

Draco immediately sprang out of bed. Any modicum of modesty he might have possessed was thrown out the open window as he stood completely starkers in front of the interloper. It was that voice, the way she said his name; it was so familiar. Confused, irate and, for some inexplicable reason, sporting wood, he speared his fingers through his tousled hair and grimaced.

"What the bloody hell is going on here? Who are you and how did you get into my—W-Weasley?"

The street lamps had switched on outside and the glow from the fluorescence flooded into the room, illuminating the features of his mystery woman. Red hair and freckles and the no-nonsense look were unmistakeable. Ginny Weasley was in his room . . . kicking him out of bed?

Ginny glanced down, not so subtly scanning the lower region of his body, and then swung up to meet his eyes. Unabashed, Draco steadily met her gaze. A slight smirk played on her lips before she easily stepped around him, making sure to avoid brushing against Draco Jr, who just so happened to be standing at full mast. She went to his companion's side of the bed and handed the confused blonde a dressing gown, smiling thinly.

"Madame Lamar, if you could please get dressed and proceed with me to the parlour." When the French woman stared at the redhead blankly, Ginny translated poorly, "_Si vous pouviez vous habiller et procéder avec moi au le petit salon_? _Merci_."

Inés obediently obliged and took the gown. She sat up, trying her best to slip it on without exposing too much of her naked body to the redhead, while casting furtive glances at Draco. Once dressed, she looked at Ginny and waited for further instructions. Draco, meanwhile, stood muted and naked on the other side of the bed.

"Malfoy," Ginny said over her shoulder, "put something on."

"I'm not putting on a stitch of clothing until you tell me why the hell you barged into _my_ flat and have the audacity to dismiss my guest from my own bed!"

Ginny simply ignored Draco and turned back to Inés, curling her finger in a come-hither motion. "_Suivez-moi, s'il vous plaît_."

The leggy blonde complied, shakily standing to her feet as she followed Ginny out the bedroom to the stairs. Stymied and naked as a jaybird, Draco stood perfectly still for a moment as he watched the girls leave. His mind was reeling, trying to processes the bizarre situation, while his lower body was attempting to convince him to take care of his immediate condition before running after the redhead.

Ignoring his erection, Draco picked up the dressing gown and threw it on. No one was going to tell him what to do in his own home, least of all a Weasley. A Weasley! No-no, he was having none of that.

"Weasley!"

Draco retrieved his wand from the bedside cabinet and charged out of his bedroom, following the girls down the stairs. They were already at the bottom of the landing when Ginny turned her head and glanced up. In the well-lit area Draco could see the redhead clearly now. Her ginger mane had been tamed, done up in a French twist that showcased the swan-like length of her porcelain neck and the soft oval shape of her face. She was dressed in a simple enough backless ivory gown, but the cut of it was enough to give Draco pause.

Ginny Weasley had one hell of a sexy back.

Ginny turned back to Inés and whispered some instructions to her in French before pushing her in the direction of the formal parlour. When Draco reached the bottom of the stairs, Ginny was already making her way to the foyer, her heels clicking loudly on the marble floor.

"Now wait just a damn minute, Weasley! What the bloody hell is go—"

Draco took a few steps forward and stopped when he saw Theodore Nott standing in his foyer. His old schoolmate was leaning casually against the wall, his head nearly brushing against a lamp fixture. Theo had always been tall and gangly, a stranger in his own skin, but the years had been kinder to him than they had been at Hogwarts. He had finally filled out; no more awkward hipbones jutting out of his skin.

Draco cleared his throat to announce his presence and both turned to face him, yet there was no answer to his interruption. He surveyed the two with a curious look. With his wand in hand, he crossed his arms over his taut chest and stood with his legs apart, determined to look calm despite being a raging inferno on the inside.

The three faced each other like separate sides of a battle.

Silence.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was _I_ interrupting?" Draco's voice wasn't exactly nasty, but it was deliberate in its intensity.

"No," Theo said breezily enough with a grin, before turning back to Ginny to look her up and down. "Nice frock, love."

"Why thank you."

He motioned for her to give him a little twirl and she obliged. Her hands were held at her sides as the fluid folds of her gown flared and contracted, revealing dainty ivory heels underneath. Theo nodded his approval, his sea-green eyes glinting in the lamplight.

"Very nice." He reached inside his breast pocket and pulled out a silver cigarette case. "Sorry to have pulled you away from McLaggen."

"McLaggen? _Cormac_ McLaggen?" Draco let out an inelegant snort. "You're dating _that_ tosser?"

"No worries," Ginny said to Theo with a shrug, ignoring Draco entirely. "I left Seamus in charge." She glanced past the towering Nott to peer at the closed front door. "So where's my client?"

"Client?" Draco's brow furrowed into a deep V. "So you mean it wasn't Theo here who invited you in?"

"Draco—" Theo gritted a fag between his teeth and was about to light it "—I'd never break into your place uninvited."

Draco reached the tall lad in several easy strides and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. There'd be no smoking in his two-story suite. "Then who let the two of you in?"

His patience, which he always had very little of, was wearing thin. Though the fact that he hadn't already thrown the both of them out on their arses was a testament to how far along he had come in the past ten years. Of course had he laid a hand on Weasley, warranted or not, the Ministry would have rained down on him like a firestorm. Still, he had to be commended for what little tolerance he was displaying in this very moment.

"Malfoy, this will go a lot easier if you do what I say." The redhead tucked a stray lock behind her ear before pointing. "Now go upstairs and get dressed. Robes would be preferable; something functional yet stylish."

A tic worked in Draco's jaw. Not only was she ordering him around in his own home but she was giving him fashion tips? He took a step towards her and bent down, invading her personal space the only way he knew how.

"I'll stand here bloody well naked in my own home if I want to, thank you very much! _You_, Weasley, are a trespasser, and I am well within my right to hex you where you stand." Technically he couldn't hex her, but she didn't need to know that. He straightened his back and folded his arms across his broad chest. "Now, I won't move a muscle until you tell me _who_ hired you to kick a woman out of my bed."

Ginny was silent, Theo too, and Draco was about to round on them both when he heard the soft click of heels approach from behind.

"I did."

Draco spun around. "Mother?"

Narcissa Malfoy was one of those lucky few women who aged _well_. She was a tall woman, long and lean; statuesque. But she wasn't all sharp lines like one would expect; her body was supple and slender yet delicate at the same time. Her hair wasn't as pale as her son's. It was more of a burnished gold, and it was done up in a perfect ballerina bun. She wore a long black dress, well-cut and well-made. Needless to say, she still turned heads.

"Do as Ms Weasley says, Draco," Narcissa commanded, before easily dismissing her son and turning towards the redhead.

His mother surveyed Ginny's apparel and the girl herself with a deep look, not necessarily threatening or disapproving but discerning and disquieting. Ginny seemed to be doing the same but smiled and took a step forward, extending her hand.

"Pleased to meet you again, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa slowly extended her own hand with a feline grace and gripped firmly. "Good evening, Ms Weasley. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

They dropped each other's hand and the tension in the air dropped, too, except for Draco's ire.

"Please, call me Ginny." The redhead inclined her head slightly, showing deference to the older woman, and his mother nodded.

"Then you may call me Narcissa." She glanced over at Theo and gave him a curt nod of greeting, which he respectfully returned. "Theodore, thank you for arranging this."

"My pleasure, Mrs Malfoy."

"I'd hate to be rude," Ginny interrupted, "but we've very little time and much to plan."

"Of course."

Narcissa stepped to the side and held out a slender arm, indicating Ginny should join her in the parlour. Ginny did just that and walked on ahead while Narcissa turned towards her son.

"Draco, did Ms Weasley not instruct you to get dressed?" She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, appraising her son in his dressing gown. "I'd suggest you wear your grey dress robes, stylish yet functional."

With that his mother gracefully turned and joined Ginny and Inés in the parlour, leaving Draco alone with Theo in the foyer.

"You heard what Mummy said, Draco." Theo grinned, fishing out another fag to light. "Better go put on your robes and play nice."

Draco snatched the cigarette out of Theo's mouth and tore it up into little pieces, along with the one he had confiscated earlier, and dropped the remnants to the floor. He dusted his hands and sharply turned towards the stairs, intent on ending this farce as quickly as possible and getting everyone the hell out of his house.

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**Notes: **1) Ginny's French isn't proper (_se lever et briller_ isn't even a French expression). I wanted to show that she had a working knowledge of the language but was far from fluent. 2) It's mentioned in the first chapter, but at least 10 years have gone by since Draco graduated from Hogwarts, so that puts Draco at 28 and Ginny at 27, respectively. 3) This story was inspired by the ABC drama _Scandal_ but does not follow it.

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**Rowan's Prompt**

**Basic premise:** Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley become co-workers—be it Ministry drones, camp counsellors, medi-wizards, curse-breakers, what have you. Whatever adventures or difficulty they run into is up to you.  
**Must haves:** Draco and Ginny aren't dating at the onset. Ginny getting hot and bothered by Draco's hotness without his noticing. D/G banter. Magic.  
**No-no's:** Too much angst. War stuff.  
**Rating range:** T and above.  
**Bonus points:** If you get original and avoid the Auror or Quidditch cliché. If other canon characters are involved, though not necessarily in the work setting. If either Draco or Ginny ends up having an impromptu dinner at the other's house.


	2. The Non-Client Client

FACING INTO A strong wind, Draco and Ginny walked east along the street. At rush-hour, Diagon Alley was bustling with shoppers. Witches and wizards were darting to and fro, from shop to shop, barely taking notice of the unusual couple passing them by.

Draco had asked Ginny why Diagon Alley the moment they had Apparated there. In fact, he had asked her a whole slew of questions, particularly why his mother had hired her to interfere with his love life. Her simple answer had been that it was all about image and how Draco was steadily flushing his down the toilet.

In his twenties Draco had developed a reputation for being a ladies' man, despite his less than favourable début at Hogwarts. He had filled out nicely—a bit too nicely, in fact, as he seemed to have a knack for pulling all the desirable yet fickle (and sometimes married) women of high society.

Up until this point his indiscretions had been easily looked over or parties involved were just as easily bought. However, the affair with Inés Lamar, the young fiancée of the French Minister for Magic, Pierre Bourdieu, wasn't something that could be swept under the rug. The fracture in poli-economic relations could potentially destroy Draco's career, not to mention his reputation, which wasn't exactly sterling.

This was where Ginny entered, the saviour of reputations. Narcissa had hired her through Theodore Nott, a long-time friend and acquaintance of both Ginny and Draco. Though Ginny had not once spoken to Theo at Hogwarts, she had come into contact with him at the Ministry, where they had both trained together as Aurors. The two had decided to pursue other career paths but remained friends and even worked together on occasion.

So when Narcissa had come to Theo about certain photographs that were brought to her attention—incriminating photographs of her son with Inés Lamar—Theo had told her to enlist in the aid of Ginny Weasley, wizarding Britain's 'fix-it' witch. And Narcissa had gladly taken his recommendation.

"So that's why Mother hired you?"

Ginny nodded, drawing her shawl about her shoulders. She looked rather out of place in her evening gown, yet no one seemed to notice or care.

"Yes, because I get things done."

"And it also helps to have the cachet of the Ministry in your back pocket." Draco didn't exactly sound bitter, but his quip wasn't meant to be friendly either.

"Malfoy, you of all people know the advantage of having friends in high places."

"I, of all people?" He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe before the war, Weasley, but now I just rely on good old-fashioned money."

Ginny rolled her eyes and tried to side-step a particularly busy pedestrian, who practically shoved her into Draco's arms. Draco caught the redhead and righted her back on her feet before quickly drawing his hands away and stuffing them into his pockets. Ginny, in turn, took a few fast steps ahead.

"So how does the Minister know about us—about me and Inés?"

Ginny slowed her pace and allowed Draco to catch up. "There were some photographs taken of you and Ms Lamar in and around London."

"What kind of photographs?"

"Incriminating ones, evidently."

"So the Minister saw them?"

"Not yet, but he's heard about them, and that's how your mother knew."

"Who took these pictures?"

"You don't need to know."

Draco huffed. "Fine. Then can you at least answer how you intend to 'fix' this soon-to-be public affair?"

In the thirty minutes Theo had given her to show up at Draco's penthouse, Ginny had devised a three-pronged plan. The first stage of that plan was to create an image of cooperation through charity. Inés's connection to the Malfoy clan would be explained by a fundraising gala organised by both Inés and Narcissa, which would be strategically held within the next few months. The second stage of the plan was to build Draco's alibi, or rather begin to rebuild his image, while the third stage was to get rid of the incriminating evidence.

"Have faith, Malfoy." Ginny smiled over her shoulder at him. "After we set up your alibi, we're going to pay a visit to the photographer—well, _I_ am. You'll be doing something else."

"Alibi?" Draco's lips pursed into a frown. "What do I need an alibi for?"

"It's not so much an alibi as an insurance policy."

"Explain."

Ginny took in a deep breath. "Well, first of all, an alibi is an extremely loaded term. Asking for an alibi is more than just being inquisitive: it's a form of accusation. In effect, giving an alibi is a denial of criminality in which the denial itself can be incriminating.

"We don't want to come out of the gate with an alibi for you because it suggests you _need_ one because you've done something wrong. But on the off-chance that someone will probe deeper into your affairs, like the French Minister is most likely to do, you'll have your insurance."

"Clever, Weasley. But how do you propose to give me this insurance, considering I don't have a reliable alibi?"

"It's all about surface attributes."

"Really?" Draco raised a pale eyebrow in scepticism. "I thought it was about the physical evidence."

"What physical evidence do we have?" She shrugged indifferently. "You can Apparate almost anywhere in the world at any time and there's no relative proof of your travels. Physical evidence can be easy enough to fabricate, but you don't need it. You're not being charged of a crime, Malfoy, just suspicious of an affair."

"And you plan to provide an alibi based on surface attributes—by making me look good?"

Ginny adjusted her hair with a deliberate sigh. "I know, right? How can I possibly make _you_ look good?"

Draco made a low growling noise at the back of his throat and Ginny desperately bit back a grin.

"Look at it this way: consider you and another man with similar build and features claim to have been home alone when these incriminating photographs were taken. The other man claims to have been smoking crack at the time—" Draco snorted at this "—while you were writing a cheque for the children's ward at St Mungo's. Clearly, inferences about both your characters based on the surface attributes of your stories are likely to lead to different evaluations."

"So you're setting up a straw man?"

Ginny abruptly halted and Draco almost bumped into her. She turned around and stepped in close while he almost took a step back. He raised a pale eyebrow in confusion when she lifted her hands to his robes, adjusting his collar.

"Malfoy, you are a multi-millionaire businessman in a cut-throat environment with your fingers in multiple pies. And I'm not using that as a metaphor for women's . . . pies.

"You have _many_ enemies and I don't need to convince the Minister or anyone else of that. There are dozens of men and women out there who'd kill for the opportunity to slander your name." Her hands made quick work of straightening out his collar before patting him on the chest. "Little do they know you're doing such an admirable job of it all on your own."

"Charming." Draco regarded the redhead with a sour look before sucking on his teeth in annoyance. "So I ask you again—how do you propose to make me look good for the public and have it be believable?"

"Why we simply enforce the fact that you're trying to fix your image." She took a step back and examined his attire before placing her hands on her hips. "Everyone knows that the best lies are clothed in truth. We'll have you doing volunteer work, not just signing cheques, and actually put you at the epicentre of the action. Furthermore, we don't insult anyone's intelligence by claiming you a philanthropist."

"Merlin forbid."

"You want to improve your image, don't you?"

Draco exhaled a disgruntled sigh but nodded. Ginny smiled. Maybe this would work out after all. Draco was being far more reasonable and cooperative than she thought he'd be. But the true test to his commitment was about to come.

"So what do I have to do? Where do I have to go?"

"We're already here."

Ginny lifted her chin, signalling to the building they were standing in front of. Draco followed her gaze and his mouth immediately dropped open. A mixture of shock and indignation competed for supremacy on his face. It was hard to say which one won out.

"You have got to be kidding me."

It was SPEW headquarters, a place where volunteers met, created programmes of awareness and where dislocated and disenfranchised house-elves were taken in. Ginny had called in a favour from a friend, who was beyond shocked at the newest volunteer Ginny was bringing her.

"Nope. Now get your arse in there." She lightly kicked at his shin and tried her best not to giggle at the horrified expression on his face. "A woman named Cynthia will be expecting you."

"Where are you going?"

She motioned to her elegant gown. "I have to get back to my previous client. Plus, I have an appointment scheduled in the morning." She fished a packet of chewing gum out of her clutch and popped a stick into her mouth with a wry grin. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

"Weasley, you can't leave me here!" He had an angry, cagey look to him that she almost wished she could take a picture of. "What if I run into Granger? What if I'm forced to strangle all these animal-loving, free-rights-obsessed freaks?"

Ginny laughed. "Just behave, Malfoy—and try to have some fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes, _fun_."

And with a wink she was gone.

**.**

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**.**

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Ginny checked up on her other client. Cormac had shown up for his meeting with the Magical Law Enforcement on time and talks had gone well. The Turners hadn't pressed charges and were willing to settle out of court. This was great news as it would keep Cormac's name out of the papers.

Ginny had arrived at St Mungo's at a quarter to one to see him doing exactly as she had instructed: putting the focus on the kids and the charity and not himself. Even though he was essentially in the clear, he had enough sense to follow her advice and keep up appearances. Because who knew if the Turners would change their minds in the future? Nothing was certain, especially when it came to fame and money.

"Dennis!"

Ginny spotted Dennis Creevey packing up his camera equipment and she made a beeline for him. Dennis immediately glanced up and set down his case, offering the redhead a beaming smile.

"Ginny! You okay?"

"I'm great. Work's going well, as you can see." She smiled and pointed to his camera case. "Did you get some good pictures?"

"Yeah, I got some great ones of Cormac with the kids."

"Excellent, excellent." Ginny's smile widened and she snaked an arm through Dennis's, leading him away from the dwindling crowd. "How's that lovely wife of yours?"

"Greta? She's good. She should be back to work in the next few months."

"I'm sure she's going to miss the little one. How is little Colin doing?"

"He's great." Dennis grinned like the proud papa he was. "He cut his first tooth the other week."

Ginny cooed appropriately and let go of Dennis's arm. She leaned back against the wall and folded her hands together, glancing about the relatively abandoned hallway. "Listen, Dennis, I have a favour to ask you."

Dennis snorted. "Of course you do. Let's have it."

"I need the Lamar-Malfoy pictures you took."

Dennis shook his head and began to turn away. "No way, I—wait!" He spun back around. "How do you know about those?"

"I have my sources." She pushed herself off the wall. "Look, I'm currently working on a fraud case—a case of stolen identity."

"Whose?"

"Draco Malfoy's."

"Come again?"

"Someone's been impersonating him," she lied. "In fact, last week someone broke into his hotel room in Dubai and stole a few of his things, including a hairbrush."

"Your point?"

"My point is that he could sue you for slander, Dennis, and none of us want that." Dennis crossed his arms over his chest, as if waiting for a better explanation than the one she was giving him. "You know very well all Malfoy has to do is argue that someone used his hair to make Polyjuice Potion in order to steal his identity and frame him."

"Frame him for what?"

Ginny stepped in closer and glanced about. "This is hush-hush, but one of Malfoy's companies is trying to secure a Wireless contract with the French Ministry through Minister Bourdieu himself, Ms Lamar's fiancé. But Malfoy's company isn't the only one trying to win the contract."

"So you're saying that one of the competing companies wants to sabotage Malfoy's relationship with the French Minister for Magic?"

"His image and his business relationships, yes."

Dennis sighed and let his arms fall limply to his sides. "Ginny, you spin a convincing yarn—I'll give you that—but Malfoy's already made a name for himself by sleeping with half the aristocracy in the United Kingdom alone. It was only a matter of time before he broadened his horizons."

Ginny was about to argue the point when Dennis raised his hand.

"Look, even if what you say is true, people are going to believe the rumours. It's Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. He might not be a baby Death Eater in-training anymore but he's made a name for himself in the wizarding world, and it's not for being a philanthropist. Plus, photographs like the ones I took will make me a mint.

"I'm not happy taking these kind of pictures but—well, I've got a family to support and a career to establish. You understand that, Ginny."

"I do, and I can help you with that career, Dennis." Ginny waved her hand. "No more paparazzi pictures."

Dennis suddenly looked interested. "Go on."

She tried to hide her grin. Hook, line and sinker.

"Did I not get you this exclusive interview and photograph session with the famous Keeper of Puddlemere United?" He nodded. "What if I could get you exclusive reporting rights to the biggest gala of the season?"

"Hosted by?"

"Narcissa Malfoy."

Dennis's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. "Exclusive-exclusive? As in no one else will cover it?"

Ginny nodded. "Just you. You'll cover the entire event, from the initial announcement to the ball itself. No other reporters or photographers will be invited."

Dennis smiled and held out his hand. "You've got yourself a deal, Ginny Weasley."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"IT WAS A pleasure seeing you again, Minister Bourdieu."

Draco extended a hand to the Minister, who gladly took it. His meaty hand was warm and his grip was firm, and there wasn't a hint of malice in his cobalt blue eyes.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr Malfoy." He let go and slipped his hand into his waist vest pocket. "It's rather unfortunate about the mix-up. I must say the press in England is decidedly more voracious than it is in France."

"Defaming aristocrats is their bread and butter here." Draco smirked good-naturedly and led the Minister to the door. "I'm just glad everything was resolved on our end."

"Yes, me too. Rumours are pesky things." He opened his pocket watch to check the time and slipped it back into his waist pocket. "Inés is very excited to host this gala event with Mrs Malfoy. She's been talking about it non-stop since she returned to Paris." He chuckled. "Do thank your mother for me when you see her next."

"I will."

The Minister smiled and made his way over to the door before pausing. He glanced over his shoulder at Draco, his blue eyes twinkling in the lamp light.

"By the by, Mr Malfoy, that was quite the brilliant plan of yours and your mother's to have my little Inés co-host this charity event in London. It's sure to generate a great deal of publicity for my campaign. And let me say that such generosity has not gone unnoticed, nor will it go unrewarded."

He patted Draco on the shoulder and offered him a knowing wink. Draco, in turn, inclined his head in appreciation at the unspoken endorsement.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that." He gave a curt wave as the Minister opened the door. "Have a safe trip, sir."

"Good day."

Once outside the penthouse, the Minister Disapparated and Draco closed the door. He heaved a sigh of relief, glad this ordeal was finally over. He had narrowly dodged a career-ruining bullet. And now thanks to the Weasley woman's scheming and quick-thinking, he might have just secured a Wireless contract with the Minister.

A financially beneficial contract _and_ he got away with shagging with the Minister's fiancée? Well, that was certainly a job well done.

"Well?"

Draco almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Ginny's voice. For the past week the woman had a habit of springing up out of nowhere and pouncing on him like a cat.

"Well, what?"

She huffed, smoothing her hands down her knee-length pencil skirt. How she managed to walk down the stairs in such a tight dress and high heels he would never know (but very much appreciated).

"What did he say?"

Draco ran his hand over his mouth. "You were upstairs, Weasley. Couldn't you hear everything?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping." She sniffed loudly, putting on her gloves. "I am not rude."

"Then what were you doing up there all this time, going through my drawers?" He lifted a pale eyebrow and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You're a very ungrateful client, you know that?"

"No, I'm your non-client client," he corrected, taking a step closer until the tip of his shoe touched hers. "_I_ did not hire you, Weasley, and I would have preferred you keeping your nose out of my private affairs."

Ginny took a step back and retrieved her jacket from the coat stand. "If I hadn't stuck my nose in your affairs, Malfoy, you would've been having a very different conversation with the French Minister."

"So you were eavesdropping on the conversation?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I might have overheard a word or two."

"Uh-huh." He took her jacket from her and helped her slip it on. "You know I could have handled this entire ordeal on my own."

"Sure you could've." She shrugged on the jacket and glanced over her shoulder at him with a smirk. "And you're welcome, Malfoy."

Draco watched her turn and head for the door, admiring the round curve of her arse as she walked away. When the door clicked shut behind her, Draco couldn't help but smile appreciatively. Ginny Weasley's body was _almost_ as tantalising as her mind.

"Ta, Weasley."

Almost.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	3. The Event of the Season

A BLACK ROLLS-ROYCE Phantom pulled up in front of Ginny's tower block as soon as the redhead had made it through the revolving glass doors. The chauffeur, who was dressed in a black suit and crisp white dress shirt, immediately got out and poised himself next to the back door, waiting to open it when Ginny drew near.

"Good evening, Ms Weasley," he greeted politely, opening the passenger door.

"Good evening."

Ginny nodded her thanks and slid in across the creamy butterscotch leather seat, schooling her features with a half-smile. She was trying her best not to let it show how impressed she was with the car and the service, as if this was something that happened to her on a daily basis.

"Theo, what's with all this? I thought we were just going to Apparate to—" Ginny had to keep her jaw from dropping to her lap when she saw Draco sitting next to her instead of Theo. "M-Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy was seated regally beside her, wearing a tailored navy blue suit with a white silk French cuff dress shirt and pair of New & Lingwood Russian calf shoes. Instead of a bowtie, he wore a matching light navy blue necktie with a diamond-studded pin in the middle. His white-blond hair, which reached well past the nape of his neck, was slicked back in tousled waves, drawing attention to his immaculate cheekbones and piercing silver-grey eyes. More astonishing was the fact that the normally clean-shaven blonde was sporting some slight facial hair, champagne in colour.

He looked—well, devastating handsome would be an apt description. Ginny wasn't sure if it was his sudden and unexpected appearance at her tower block that was giving her cause for cardiac arrest or the fact that Draco was dressed like a man ready to send any unsuspecting woman to an early grave.

It was probably both.

"Theo couldn't make it," Draco said, staring pointedly at Ginny for her to bring her legs inside so that the chauffeur could shut the door. She promptly did just that and the door clicked shut. Draco cleared his throat. "Mother insisted I escort you to the gala personally."

"I see." She fiddled with her sequin clutch before folding her hands onto her lap. "Will Theo be at the ball?"

Draco shrugged indifferently, glancing out the window as the car started up. "I suspect so. Mother would never forgive him if he didn't show." He turned away from the window and his eyes swept over her frock. "It seems we match."

Ginny was wearing a long-sleeved navy blue sequin scoop back evening gown with an intricately stitched butterfly design and a revealing but tasteful slit that ran almost half-way up her left thigh. Her red hair was worn down past her shoulders with a wavy bounce and parted to the side with her right eye hidden à la Jessica Rabbit. Adorning her ears were simple diamond studs and no other form of jewellery.

Draco's eyes continued to roam over Ginny's attire, covering every single square inch of her, from her exposed creamy-white thigh to the tip of her navy blue sequin heels. His gaze then travelled back up to meet hers and Ginny tried her utmost not to blush. There weren't many who could make a gaze feel like a caress, but Draco seemed to be one of those people.

"Nice."

His pale pink lips lifted in a slight smirk before vanishing altogether as he looked away. Ginny had to stop her mouth from dropping open like a slack-jawed idiot and tried to cover what parts of her exposed thigh that she could.

The duration of the ride was uneventful and quiet, with only the background noise of classical music playing low on the surround-sound stereo. Ginny wondered why they were taking a car to begin with, but she didn't really mind. She quite liked some of the Muggle conveniences, and this car was as comfortable as it was luxuriant. Plus it smelled rather nice.

Why did expensive cars always smell so lovely? Was it the leather? Muggle magic?

"Would you care for something to drink?" Draco asked, pouring himself a glass of scotch before motioning to the half-concealed mini-bar.

Ginny paused thoughtfully, brow creased. Was Draco Malfoy being nice to her just to be nice or was he simply observing the rules of etiquette? Or was this a ploy of some sort and, if so, for what nefarious purposes? Ginny shook her head. She shouldn't have been over-analysing such things.

"No thank you, Malfoy."

"I think we can let go of formalities and old grudges for just one night, can't we?" When she stared at him nonplussed, he smirked. "Call me Draco."

"Oh." Her tongue darted nervously over pink-glossed lips. "Well, then you may call me Ginny."

He smirked, saluting her with his tumbler of scotch. "Ginny it is, then."

Ginny wrinkled her nose and inwardly frowned at his smug smirk. What was he playing at? Was he still upset that she had been forced to clean up his affair with the French Minister's fiancée? Was this the wounded male ego at work, lulling her into a false sense of security before striking? She wasn't so sure as he _seemed_ to be acting rather cordial and polite, but then it could've been just that, an act. Still, she was probably being too paranoid and over-thinking things, as usual.

The two sat in silence for a brief moment with only the gentle hum of the car's engine and the low music playing in the background. Draco took a sip of his drink and leaned back, draping his free arm over the back of her seat, his fingers precariously close to her hair.

"So, Creevey's the photographer you had to _convince_ to give up the incriminating photographs of myself and Inés, eh?"

Ginny's shoulders tensed for a half-second. She should have known he would have figured it out, especially with Dennis being the only photographer given exclusive rights to cover the gala event tonight.

"You don't need to know, Malfoy."

He snorted but seemed willing to play her game. "It's Draco, remember? And I was just curious how you found out, exactly."

Ginny's shoulders relaxed and she cleared her throat. "Through Theo and a mutual friend of ours, Justin Finch-Fletchley." Draco leaned his head back, trying to locate the image of Finch in the files of his memories, and Ginny lifted her hair off her neck. "He's a communications expert. He designed this."

She opened her clutch and pulled out a mobile phone. It was black with a flat screen and was roughly the same size as her hand.

"What's that?"

"It's a mobile phone."

"A Muggle device?"

She nodded and handed it over for Draco to look at. "It's inspired by the Muggle device, but Justin is in the process of creating a global-wide magical network. It's sort of like the Floo system, although far more convenient and less sooty." She smiled and raised three fingers. "He made three prototypes—one for me, himself and Theo."

"Hmm." Draco briefly studied it, looking neither impressed nor unimpressed, and handed it back to Ginny. "How does it work?"

"I haven't the foggiest." She offered him sheepish grin and slipped the device back into her purse. "May I ask you a question now, Draco?"

He inclined his head in permission.

"Why the car?"

"I like it." He lazily shrugged. "I happen to like quite a few Muggle luxuries." When Ginny stared at him in open incredulity, he glowered. "Oh, don't look at me that way. People's tastes are allowed to evolve over time."

"But Muggle conveniences—_you_?"

"The Malfoy family has had a vested interest in Muggle companies for quite some time now," he said snidely, "albeit it was all kept hush-hush by my father. After the war there was no need to hide our shame, as it were, and I took it upon myself to further investigate these companies."

Ginny tried to hide her smirk and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Draco Malfoy, Muggle Lover?"

"Yes," he said, irritably drawing out the syllable before clicking his tongue along his teeth. "Father was none-too-pleased."

"What did he do?"

"Threw a wobbler. What else could he do?" Draco shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "The future of Malfoy Enterprises lies in bridging the gap between both worlds, much like your friend Finch is trying to do with that phone."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, impressed. "So what's with the magic-free penthouse, then?"

"You're just full of questions tonight."

"I'm a naturally inquisitive person." She smiled, making sure not to show any teeth. "So do tell, Draco. I'd never imagine someone such as yourself not dependent on magic."

Draco cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his cushy leather seat. "I had it set up that way for security measures, and for convenience.

"Convenience?"

"Yes, convenience."

Ginny was about to push the issue but the pointed look Draco was giving her suggested he was done fielding questions on that particular subject for the night. She knew that look, for she had instructed many of her clients on how to give that precise look. Draco could have taught a course for her. So, sensing his unease, she decided to change tactics and kept the conversation light.

"What was the exact theme for this gala, again?"

"Water, I believe."

"Hence the navy blue." She motioned to his suit and he nodded.

"Hence the navy blue."

Ginny already knew this as Narcissa had told her in advance. Water was supposed to symbolise giving life and this charity gala was about giving aid to displaced witches and wizards throughout the world, those who had lost their homes during the civil wars that erupted across the globe after the fall of Voldemort. It also raised funds for disabled veterans, witches and wizards suffering physical maladies as well as psychological ones.

"Why did you agree to escort me to the gala? I mean, despite your mother's vested interest. I could have easily Apparated there myself and you could have claimed I left before you arrived."

Uncertainty flashed across Draco's face, not exactly an emotion Ginny would ever expect him to wear, and he finally shrugged. "I suppose I could've gone against my mother's wishes, but your company isn't that intolerable, Weasley—I mean, Ginny."

She didn't bother to hide her frown this time. "Thanks."

"Why?" Draco turned in his seat and leaned towards her. "Did you think there was another reason why I agreed to escort you?"

She quickly shook her head. "No-no, I was just curious."

"Curiosity never killed anyone," he said, leaning back and taking a long sip of his drink, "except the cat."

Ginny laughed softly, starting to feel somewhat at ease. Now that she thought about it, this wasn't the first time she had a somewhat agreeable conversation with Draco Malfoy. Since he had first become her client, they hadn't once insulted each other. He clearly wasn't the same bigoted git from Hogwarts and she wasn't the same temperamental Gryffindor. Although it was still too early to bet on how much (or how little) either one of them had changed, especially with regards to their attitudes towards one another. Right now they were just two people holding a civil conversation. Such cordiality could change at any moment.

A few minutes later the car was brought to a stop in front of a palatial home in Richmond Park. _Home_—that was far too inadequate a word to describe this mansion that looked nothing short of a museum with its red and white brick Stuart-style architecture. It was an insult to refer to it as such, really. But even more breathtaking than the seventeenth-century architecture were the landscaped gardens decorated with native and exotic flowers and shrubbery, numerous fountains and reflective ponds, and benches for guests to sit upon.

The chauffeur opened Ginny's door first and offered his hand to help her out onto the cobbled path. Ginny adjusted her dress and waited for Draco to join her. Eventually, he came around and extended her his arm, which she graciously took, clutching at a well-toned bicep. She hazarded a glance at his face, which was once again mercurial.

Nothing got in and nothing got out.

Draco dismissed the chauffeur and they walked up the cobblestone path until they reached the monolithic front door. A second later and they were greeted by a courteous house-elf, who permitted them entrance into the massive atrium. Once inside, Ginny glanced up at the ceiling. It was enchanted, much like the ceiling at Hogwarts, although instead of candles or a clouded sky, the beautiful mirage above them was the Northern Lights. More than that, it was snowing, yet the snowflakes didn't wet her hair or skin when they landed.

Ginny wasn't one to be easily awe-struck, but seeing the Aurora Borealis recreated in three-dimension before her very eyes, with its swirling streaks of green, blue, pink and purple, did make her concentrate far less on her immediate surroundings. Her heel clicked against the polished cream and rose marble floor and she gripped onto Draco's arm even tighter to make sure that she didn't fall.

Draco brought his other hand over and overlapped his fingers with hers, steadying her. Ginny craned her neck to look up at him, brown eyes crashing into grey. He nodded infinitesimally and she repeated the action, letting him know she was safe now, before he finally let go. Fortunately, he wouldn't let her fall and embarrass herself, which would ultimately embarrass him.

"Try not to kill yourself," he said in a low timbre that resonated somewhere in her chest. His pupils were dilated to the point where there was only a thin ring of silver and her gaze dropped to his mouth to catch a glimpse of his perfectly straight white teeth.

"Try not to drop me, then."

Draco's lips curved into an amused smirk and he led them through the mansion's labyrinth to the in-house ballroom. Just as it was on the outside, everything inside was decorated in seventeenth-century English Baroque, although there was some Italian Renaissance influence as well.

The theme had shifted from snow and the Aurora Borealis to mirages of waterfalls and cascading springs (all tastefully done) and an extravagant punch fountain in the middle of the room. If anyone had trouble going to the loo, this place was as wonderful an incentive as any dream about flushing toilets, although far more decadent and certainly less crass.

Everyone was dressed elegantly in their gowns and dinner suits and dress robes, and even though Ginny's frock was lovely and expensive in its own right, she couldn't help but feel under-dressed and severely poor. Still, she was a Weasley and she held her head high. She ate such wizarding politicians and aristocracy for breakfast, and she knew the most famous wizards' most intimate secrets. She certainly wasn't going to lose her confidence over some well-dressed people, not Ginny.

She and Draco didn't make it very far inside the ballroom before Draco was stopped and greeted. He shook hands with the men present and kissed the gloved hands of their female companions. Not to be overlooked, Ginny was also greeted, given polite compliments on her gown and how she and Draco matched, which only embarrassed the redhead. Still, she was a professional and she greeted everyone with her winning smile and smart dialogue. She certainly knew how to win over a crowd as good as any Malfoy, with perhaps the exception of Narcissa Malfoy herself.

"If it isn't our unsung woman of the hour."

Ginny turned to see Narcissa, who seemed to be floating across the floor. The older woman was dressed in an ice blue evening gown with an elegant scoop neckline and dolman sleeves with diamonds encrusted in a shower pattern on the shoulders. Her golden hair was swept back in a low twisted bun, not a single strand out of place, and on her ears were nickel-sized cluster diamonds that sparkled in the light. On her right wrist was a diamond cuff bracelet and on her finger was a giant opal ring that inspired envy from every woman in attendance.

"Narcissa, a pleasure as always." Ginny took the older woman's proffered hand and gestured to the ballroom. "Everything looks stunning. Leave it to Narcissa Malfoy to create something this extravagant in only a few months' time." Ginny shook her head. "Impeccable work, but it's to be expected with you in charge."

Narcissa allowed a small but genuine smile to grace her lips before dropping Ginny's hand. "Too kind, and all too true." She glanced over at her son, who was still engrossed in conversation, and motioned for Ginny to follow her. "Please, come take a walk with me."

The elegant blonde drew Ginny near one of the mini waterfalls and took two glasses of champagne from a server. She handed one to Ginny, who thanked her and took a sip from a crystal flute that probably cost more than a year's rent of her flat.

"Has Draco been on his best behaviour?"

Ginny almost choked on her drink but quickly recovered with a nod. "He's been an absolute gentleman."

Narcissa raised a pale eyebrow in scepticism but nodded infinitesimally. "Good."

"I must say once more what a fabulous job you've done, Narcissa. It's breath-taking, truly." She motioned to the extravagant decorations and the well-dressed people laughing and socialising. "Tell me, how has Inés fared in all of this?"

"Better than expected."

Narcissa took a dainty sip of her Perrier-Jouët and discreetly pointed to the leggy blonde, who was talking animatedly with the British Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Her fiancé, who was standing beside her, looked to be in deep discussion with the Ministers of Germany and Australia.

"This is all thanks to you, Ginny." She offered the redhead one of her rare smiles and Ginny couldn't help but humble herself by blushing proudly.

Just then the dowdy yet impossibly rich Matilda Burke called out to Narcissa, who nodded and turned back to Ginny with a raised glass. She motioned to the countless dignitaries and potential wealthy investors of society who filled the room.

"I trust you know what to do now."

Ginny nodded resolutely and watched the graceful blonde float across the ballroom floor, as though it was ice and she was the Ice Queen. All heads turned as Narcissa greeted the elderly socialite, and Ginny couldn't help but sigh in envy. If only she had that effortless command over others, that unspoken cachet. But now was not the time to wallow in self-doubt. She was a capable woman and this night was still hers to be had.

While the gala itself was held to raise funds for displaced and disabled witches and wizards (as well as a ploy to put the French Minister off the scent of his fiancée's affair), the secondary aim, at least on Narcissa's part, was to set Ginny up with potential clients and investors. And what better place to start than where all the famous and influential people of the wizarding world chose to congregate?

Everyone knew that to make it in this world you needed friends in high places, and Ginny was fortunate to have come out of the war with such friends. One of those friends happened to be her ex, Harry Potter. To have gone from the poor little ginger in hand-me-downs to dating (debatably) the greatest wizarding hero of all time was quite the leap in social status. Ginny had become a celebrity overnight, and her fame had only increased with her short-lived career as a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and her eventual engagement (and breaking of that engagement) to The Boy Who Lived.

But more than that, Ginny had made a name for herself as a witch who 'fixed' things, who helped other wizards become successful or avoid legal issues. It was more than just being associated with Harry Potter. For as soon as she severed ties with the famous young wizard, everyone had wanted a piece of her.

She didn't even need to blow the dust off her CV because everyone knew that it was Ginny Weasley who had got Harry his position as the deputy minister, the youngest in wizarding history. Ginny Weasley had accomplished this feat, not Harry Potter, not even Hermione Granger. Ginny, the youngest and only Weasley girl, had campaigned for Harry's candidacy and won.

Needless to say she had options.

That was only three short years ago and since then Ginny had been busy. She could have worked for anyone, but what she really wanted was to go into business for herself and take off globally. Returning to Quidditch either as a coach or a reporter didn't appeal to her; neither did taking the path to become an Auror or a barrister. She had studied for both but they had lost their appeal the moment she had got a taste for coming up with solutions to seemingly impossible situations.

Ginny knew what her calling in life was and it was crisis management. But to build an enterprise like that needed capital, vast sums of money, and what Ginny really needed to pull this off was an investor.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	4. Auction Block Blues

THE FOOD WAS delicious and the conversation flowed like the champagne. Ginny's glass was filled at least twice during the course of the meal and twice after, and she didn't recall telling the server to stop.

After the dinner, several of the couples took to the floor dancing while Ginny tried to digest her food. One could never have too much pheasant, or so she once thought. Or at least one could never have too much pheasant as long as one wasn't stuffing one's own gullet with hors d'oeuvre before dinner even started.

Her bad.

Groaning and berating herself for having eaten too much, Ginny turned to see Theo entering the ballroom. He was dressed in a tailored gunmetal blue suit with a European cut. Unlike Draco or any of the other men at the ball, Theo had elected not to wear a tie or button the top three buttons of his white Egyptian cotton dress shirt, which left a little of his chest exposed. If Draco had done that, half the women probably would have swooned while the other half would have jumped him and ripped his clothes off. But with Theo it wasn't a quest to stand out or cause the women around him to drool. It was just something that suited his devil-may-care attitude.

While Theo wasn't the most handsome wizard in Britain, he had a bit of a scholarly-adventurer look to him, sort of like Indiana Jones, albeit he was still a little on the slender side. But the one thing Theo had to his advantage that no other pretty boy there had was his height. Theo stood head and shoulders above most wizards let alone witches. If one wanted to talk to the tall lad, one usually had to crane one's neck upwards.

His sandy blond hair was styled in a modern pompadour, which would have looked ridiculous on almost anyone else, except Theo. With his angular face and squarish V-shaped jaw and cleft chin, he carried it well; so well, in fact, that Ginny suspected other men would soon be sporting the exact hairstyle in the upcoming months.

What also suited the tall wizard were his sea-green eyes and the small dimple in his left cheek that always appeared whenever he smiled, as well as the stubble of a strawberry-blond moustache above his upper lip. Was 'couldn't bother to shave' the new look for men nowadays?

Shaking her head, Ginny marched over to her friend and lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He swivelled around, hand in pocket, and offered her a dimpled smile.

"Hullo, Ginny."

"Where have you been?" she asked, wasting no words, and Theo merely shrugged, unperturbed by her brusqueness.

"Narcissa told me to be fashionably late." He noted her annoyed expression and his smile morphed into a smirk. "You were stuck with Draco as your escort, weren't you?"

"You could have at least warned me!"

"Where's the fun in that?" When Ginny made to swipe at him, he feinted left and stepped back before holding up his hands in surrender. "No, in all seriousness I had a case I was working on."

"A case? What case?" Ginny dropped her shoulders and the fight went out of her, now replaced with curiosity. "Well, are you going to share?"

"Just some routine PI work, nothing terribly exciting. Besides—" he motioned to the packed ballroom filled with dignitaries "—I think you'll be receiving a lot of work after this event. Narcissa has been singing your praises all evening, or so I've heard."

"What a high compliment."

Theo nodded, rubbing his hand over his breast pocket where he kept his cigarette case. "A high compliment indeed."

Ginny exhaled sharply. She wasn't ignorant or naive. To have someone like Narcissa Malfoy sing her praises to the rich and powerful was nothing short of a miracle, as Narcissa often exercised icy aloofness like it was an Olympic sport. Still, Ginny was unsure if anyone here would be willing to invest in her firm. Very few knew what crisis management was or even cared to know. Little did they know that Ginny was the person saving their friends and business associates' companies and reputation before the public even knew either had been tarnished. But then that's how good she was at what she did.

"You know I'd be the one financing your firm if I didn't already have a conflict of interest," Theo said, patting his chest, and Ginny nodded with a smile.

"I know."

Theo couldn't invest in Ginny's firm because it essentially conflicted with his own business as a private investigator. At one point they had discussed merging companies and becoming partners, but Theo preferred being his own boss just as much as Ginny did. There was significant freedom in answering to no one, and choosing cases according to whim. Another conflict of interest was Theo's investment in Justin's mobile phone product, which would be taking off at any moment. Theo was simply juggling too many projects at once to take on any more.

Fishing a packet of gum from his pocket, Theo popped a stick into his mouth with a grimace. Ginny was about to ask him how he was faring with his nicotine habit when she heard a few excited squeals behind her. They were quiet and composed yet still discernible as squeals. Then, just as suddenly, a flock of women rushed past her and almost bowled her over.

"What's going on?"

"It's a silent auction." Theo pointed to the long tables where dignified and not-so-dignified women were gathered, putting quill to parchment. "Our desirable bachelors are being put on the bidding block tonight."

"Oh."

"You see, this is the _fun_ part of the fundraiser, Ginny." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned, his dimple deepening. "This is what entices the women to take out their cheque books."

"I'm sure it does." Ginny bit the inside of her cheek and watched as the women clamoured around the tables. "Who's on the block?"

"Yours truly, for one."

Ginny craned her neck to look up at the green-eyed wizard. "If I had the money, you know I'd buy you in a heartbeat."

"Much appreciated." He inclined his head with a smile and Ginny began to scan the crowd for potential bachelors.

"Who else?"

"Draco, of course."

Ginny spotted the blond chatting up some besotted females and she rolled her eyes. "Of course."

After the squealing died down, Theo and Ginny carried on their conversation until Draco called Theo over. The rest of the night carried on with little fanfare and Ginny spent most of it mingling with the rich and the powerful. While people recognised her (after all, she did used to date Harry Potter), none seemed familiar with her recent work. In fact, most thought she was still a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies.

Ginny went back to her table and ordered another glass of champagne when the lights suddenly dimmed. A hush fell over the crowd as Narcissa Malfoy elegantly strode up to the podium and placed her wand against her throat so that her voice would carry.

"Good evening. I hope you are all having a splendid time."

The crowd erupted in applause.

"Our most gracious guests have been writing cheques all evening and I am pleased to say that the War Fund will be receiving a sizeable donation to its charity this month." More applause and some cheers sounded at this and Narcissa waited for the clapping to die down before she continued. "And now we have arrived at the _fun_ part of the evening: the results of the silent auction."

Theo, who had joined Ginny's side at the table again, leaned over while clapping. "See, I told you—_fun_."

Ginny couldn't help but giggle as the crowd's applause picked up, seeming to renew the energy of the room once more.

Narcissa resumed speaking once the applause had died down and went on to remind everyone what the parameters of the silent auction were. First, each bachelor had to write a detailed description of what a date with him would entail; however, he wasn't allowed to give his name. It was a way to avoid favouritism. To speed things along, Narcissa only read out the highest bids, which started at fifty-thousand pounds and up.

Ginny clapped politely when a geriatric wizard stood up to be claimed by a disappointed thirty-something witch who was clearly out sixty-thousand pounds. But she would be travelling the French Polynesia via yacht, so that had to make up for something. Right?

The second highest bid came from a stunning blonde who bore a striking resemblance to Ginny's sister-in-law, Fleur Delacour, but with Luna Lovegood's protuberant silver-blue eyes. The gorgeous young woman had written a cheque for three-hundred and ninety-thousand pounds to be whisked away to Iceland to snorkel Lake Thingvellir and dive the Silfra Crack with none other than one of Ginny's best mates, Theodore Nott.

Apparently this Veela-looking beauty was an adventurer like Theo.

"Theo, she looks like a hybrid of Fleur and Luna!"

"I know," Theo whispered with a goofy grin on his face while still clapping. "And she likes underwater potholing. I think I'm in love."

Ginny giggled and watched as Theo walked over to the stunning young woman and planted a chaste kiss on the top of her hand. She seemed more than happy with her bid and she should have been: Theo was an excellent catch.

The applause died down when Narcissa announced the highest bid for the evening. A two-night private stay in the United Arab Emirates city of Dubai. Dubai was all Narcissa had to say to make Ginny pout with envy. Who didn't want to go to the most beautiful and extravagant city in the world to gorge oneself on delicious food, shop the best boutiques and jewellery stores, sail crystal blue waters and lay on the softest, whitest sands imaginable?

No one, that's who!

"The five-hundred thousand pound bid goes to . . . Ms Ginevra Weasley."

Heads swivelled in her direction, some probably suffering from whiplash, and Ginny paused mid-clap. Five-hundred thousand pounds? She barely had five-thousand pounds to her name let alone _five-hundred thousand_. This had to be a mistake—a very expensive, bankrupt her and force her into the poor house kind of mistake. She was about to start hyperventilating when Narcissa gestured to a man on the other side of the room.

"Draco, come meet your date."

Ginny's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. Her mouth went dry; she had absolutely no saliva left, not even to protest this action.

Draco stood from the table and buttoned his jacket. The others clapped and watched as he made his way over to Ginny. While the men congratulated him, the women gave Ginny dirty looks. They were the kind a woman delivered to another woman whom she'd selected to be her nemesis for the evening, for no particular reason other than the men seemed to fancy her.

Those kinds of looks could dismantle a woman. Those looks were the kind that wrote Ginny off as someone cheap and insignificant. They raked in her appearance from the roots of her ginger hair to the soles of her feet, reducing her to the image of a beggar on the street. But Ginny Weasley wasn't just any woman. She endured the looks, even those that were just directed at her out of curiosity, and poised herself above them.

She _was_ above them.

So what if Draco Malfoy seemed to take an interest in her? Although she was quite certain he had arranged this bidding as a lark. If this were true, she was going to beat him senseless . . . in private, of course. She still had an image to maintain.

"I don't recall placing a bid on you," she whispered with a fake smile plastered across her lips as he approached her table.

"Really now?" He stood close and tilted his head to the side in that cocky manner of his that made her want to punch him in the throat. "Funny, that."

"Yes, funny that." She faked laughed, which sounded like a deranged titter, and Draco chuckled at her expense.

"Well, we'll have lots of time to discuss the coincidence on our date." He graciously took her hand and turned it palm upwards, kissing the inside of her wrist. She turned away with an angry blush while the observing women looked ready to pummel Ginny for simply existing. "I'm unavailable for the next few days, but I'm willing to make myself _flexible_ for your convenience."

"Huzzah."

Draco gently shook his head with an amused smirk before amicably leaving her table and returning to his own, once again surrounded by the who's-who of society. One hand was tucked away in his pocket while the other waved around in the air as he spoke with his lowly subjects. He held everyone captivated, especially the females who gazed upon him like besotted fangirls. Ginny, who would never be a besotted fangirl ever again, rolled her eyes.

Aside from the auction mishap, which she would have to clear up with Narcissa later, Ginny had to admit the night was a relative success. Her earning the highest bid of the night had people flocking to her and asking about her business. After a while, though, the night had begun to drag on and her bed was calling to her. Bidding the hostesses goodnight, Ginny found a quiet place in the garden and Apparated home.

**.**

**.**

**.**

THE NEXT DAY, Ginny arrived at work bright and early—and only slightly hungover from last night's activities. As the boss she didn't have to be in at a set time, but she believed in leading by example and was usually one of the first to arrive. The only people who came into work before she did were Justin and her far more exuberant than necessary secretary, Lavender Brown.

"Good morning, Ginny!"

"Good morning, Lavender. Are any of the others in?"

"Just Justin."

"Any post?"

"Here."

Lavender handed Ginny a short stack of letters and the redhead nodded in thanks. She was about to head to her office when the wavy-haired blonde popped out from behind her desk to block Ginny's path.

"So how was the gala?"

"Well, I—"

"Did you meet any princes? How did everyone look? Did anything scandalous happen? Did you manage to snag any clients or investors?"

Ginny sighed and slowly sifted through the mail. There was no point in fielding one question at a time with Lavender. "Two princes and one princess, everyone looked so dreadfully smashing that I felt like a pauper in my designer gown, you'll find out soon enough, and some potential future clients but no investors as of yet."

Lavender pouted, put out that Ginny wasn't going to tell her anything juicy. Ginny wasn't about to tell the gossiping Lavender that the greatest scandal of the evening was her winning Draco in a silent auction that she hadn't even bid on. Which reminded her: she would have to visit Narcissa later on today and clear up the issue. Obviously some wealthy witch was out half a million pounds with nothing to show for it.

"Oh well, I really wish I could've gone. It would've been so lovely." Lavender sighed wistfully, tucking a thick honey-blonde lock behind her ear. "But of course I would've had nothing to wear, unless, of course, I was given a raise?"

Ginny looked up from the post and sniffed. "You'll have to put that dream on hold until we get an actual investor, Lav."

Lavender sighed mournfully while Ginny finally made her way to her office. She set the letters and her briefcase down on her desk and turned towards the window. While the office space was small—a single flat in a six-story office building in the Waterloo Quarter—the partial view of River Thames was well worth the small space.

Ginny was lucky to have received such a prime location in the first place. Her fledgling firm with its part-time staff depended on income from previous cases, as well as Ginny's Great Aunt Muriel, who had left the downtown property to Ginny in her will. In order to pay her staff, Ginny rented out the rest of the space except the top floor, which consisted of a reception area, her office, a kitchenette and a board-slash-workroom.

Ginny's stomach rumbled with hunger and she turned away from the window. It was time to put some tea and maybe a biscuit or two in her belly. One of Lavender's redeeming qualities as a secretary was her ability to stock the kitchen with the most delectable pastry imaginable. She knew where all the quality bakeries were and always managed to stay within budget.

Making a beeline for the kitchenette, Ginny spotted Theodore Nott seated at one of the tables. He was slathering raspberry jam and clotted cream on a yummy-looking scone.

"Theo." Ginny located a mini chocolate chunk biscuit and popped it into her mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to steal your scones, obviously." He bit into the raspberry scone and licked the clotted cream off his upper lip. "Mmm, delicious."

Ginny rolled her eyes with a grin as she poured herself a cup of tea. "Every morning you come here to nick our pastries. Tracey must be dreadfully lonely at the office without you."

"I sacked her this morning," Theo said between bites. Glancing up, he noted the less-than-convinced look on Ginny's face and swallowed. "Okay, she sacked herself. She finally got a lecturing post at the university."

"Oh, good for her. I'll have to send her a gift."

Ginny smiled and took a sip of her tea, wincing that the tea bag had been left in a great deal too long for her liking. She'd have to have Lavender make a run to one of those Muggle cafés and order her an iced coffee. In the meantime, she set down her strong cup of tea and poured herself a glass of water. Joining Theo at the table, she grabbed a butter knife and began buttering her own scone while Theo started on his second.

"And now I've got to find myself a new secretary," Theo bemoaned, licking some clotted cream off his thumb. "How's Brown been working out for you?" Ginny was in the midst of yawning before snapping her mouth shut with a glare, and Theo smirked. "That good, huh?"

Ginny snorted and took a bite of her scone. Lavender might not have been the most professional or even a relatively competent secretary, but she could certainly pick out fine pastries—food in general, really.

"I'm sure I can find you someone, or maybe Zabini can. He's probably dated the entire secretary pool in London."

"Probably."

The two shared a conspiratorial grin. Blaise, along with Draco, were two playboys Ginny and Theo often enjoyed ripping on, even though both were close friends with Theo since before school. But then Blaise and Draco had a habit of letting their dicks get them into trouble, which made them rightful figures of mockery, regardless of history or friendship.

How Ginny had become acquainted with Blaise after Hogwarts was not through Theo but Blaise's mother, Niobe, who just so happened to be one of Ginny's first clients. Apparently the death of husband number eight was when wizarding Britain finally decided that something was amiss with the witch affectionately dubbed The Black Widow.

Keeping Mrs Zabini out of Azkaban had been damn near impossible, but not as difficult as it had been to spurn the advances of Niobe's son. The too-handsome-for-his-own-good Blaise Zabini didn't exactly like to take the word _no_ for an answer. Like his mother, he was also fond of marriage. Unlike his mother, however, his wives only left the relationship with a broken heart; figuratively speaking, of course.

"So when's your date with the stunner scheduled?"

Theo ignored Ginny's question and was about to dig into his third scone when she drew the plate away.

"What? Who? What?"

"Your date from the auction?"

"Oh, Wren?"

"Wren? Her name is _Wren_?" Ginny snorted. "I take back any jokes I might have made about Luna's name, or Hermione's."

"Hmm, I dunno about that." Theo eyed the scones but took a sip of his tea instead. "Hermione is quite the odd name."

"True."

"Anyway, we're not leaving till late June."

Ginny took another bite of her scone. "That'll be a nice time to go diving."

"I agree."

Theo leaned back in his chair with a sigh and took out the silver cigarette case from his inner jacket pocket. He was about to put a fag between his teeth and light it when Ginny slapped his hand.

"No smoking in here!"

"Then give me another scone!" he barked crankily, and Ginny thrust the plate of scones at him.

"Here, have at it."

"Ta."

Theo happily dug back in and Ginny couldn't help but laugh. She knew he'd been trying to quit smoking for a while now, and the only thing that seemed to help curb the cravings was to eat. But unlike most smokers who replaced cigarettes with food, Theo didn't gain a pound. The lucky high-metabolism-having bastard.

Just then Lavender walked into the kitchenette and smiled at Theo before handing Ginny a single letter. "More post for you, Ginny. It just came in."

"Thank you, Lavender." Curious, Ginny decided to open the letter there when Justin walked in with his Muggle laptop. "Hullo, Justin."

Justin nodded his hello and went straight to the coffee while Ginny went about reading the letter.

"Finch."

Justin turned at the sound of Theo's voice and smiled. "Hey, Nott. What brings your scrawny arse here? Stealing our food again?"

Theo patted his belly. "I'm wasting away without Tracey feeding me."

"Clearly." Justin set down his laptop and took a seat at the table, forgetting his coffee altogether. "By the by, have you looked over the stats I sent you the other day?"

"Yes, I did, and I—"

"I don't believe it!"

Everyone turned at the sound of Ginny's shocked voice.

"What?"

"What is it?"

"Is everything okay?"

"I—" she glanced up from the letter, her eyes as round as saucers "—we have an investor."

Theo and Justin blinked, shared a look, and then turned back to Ginny expectantly.

"Well, who is it?"

Ginny swallowed thickly. "D-Draco Malfoy."

**.**

**.**

**.**


	5. The Not-So-Silent Silent Partner

THE AIR WAS damp and fog was drifting in off the Thames. It was still thin, no more than a nimbus around the street lamps and low-lying smoke over wet pavement, but Ginny guessed that in another hour it would be almost thick enough to cut. But that was London.

Despite the fog, Ginny had managed to make it into work only slightly behind schedule. The morning hadn't exactly started out that great: she had slept in, spilt orange juice all over her favourite white silk blouse and had to change, and then she managed to scuff her brand new Jimmy Choos on the pavement just outside her tower block.

Initial setbacks aside, it was still a good day for Ginny Weasley. It was her first day as a certified crisis manager with a firm of her very own. Fully bought and paid for. Thanks to her new investor, she could hire her part-time staff on as full-time, stop renting out the rest of her office building and use the space below for her own business. Furthermore, she now had the financial backing to take her firm global. The only problem, however, was that her silent partner was Draco Malfoy.

Ginny had no idea why he had decided to invest in her firm, and though she should have questioned it, she really didn't feel like falling off the current high she was on. The minute she questioned the veracity of Draco's objectives was the moment when this house of cards would come tumbling down.

What was even more bizarre than Draco's recent investment in Ginny's firm was her discovery that it was Draco who had bid on himself under Ginny's name at the silent auction. To be quite frank, the revelation had left her slightly dumbstruck. Why on earth had he done it? And why was he now helping her out with her business? None of it made any sense.

With all these thoughts troubling her mind, Ginny stepped off the lift onto the sixth floor. She rounded the corner to see Seamus and Justin standing around Lavender's desk in the reception area. All suspicion and doubt evaporated in that instant and she couldn't begin to hide the smile surfacing on her lips.

Pushing the glass doors open wide, Ginny greeted her now full-time staff in high spirits. "Good morning, everyone!"

When no one bothered to turn or even utter a word to her, Ginny cleared her throat and re-announced her presence. Once again, her greeting it was met with silence. She smiled thinly, waiting for someone to speak or for Lavender to hand her the post or for someone to just bloody well acknowledge her, their boss! Instead, three sets of eyes remained trained on the closed doors of the boardroom, as though they were waiting for a Bogart to burst through at any moment.

Curious, Ginny joined them at the desk and followed their gazes. She could hear low voices coming from within the room and she leaned in close to Lavender. "What is it? What's going on?"

"Oh, Ginny!" Lavender jumped slightly at her desk and put a hand on her heart. "I didn't hear you come in."

Seamus and Justin also turned in Ginny's direction, finally acknowledging the redhead's presence. But just as quickly, their attention went back to the boardroom. Ginny wrinkled her nose in irritation.

"What is it? Who's in the room?" She thought perhaps it was a client or maybe Ron had come by to visit and didn't feel comfortable waiting in her office or the seating area. But if it was Ron, who was he talking to, himself?

"It's Malfoy," Seamus answered distractedly, his eyes still trained on the doors. "Bloody _Malfoy's_ in our boardroom."

Ginny's brow furrowed into a pensive V. "Doing what?"

"Holding a meeting with the new staff he's hired, apparently."

"He's _what_?"

Ginny dropped her briefcase on Lavender's desk and stormed her way to the boardroom. Her heels clicked angrily on the tiled floor and her fingers reached for the handles, throwing both doors wide open.

"Everyone, please pardon the interruption, but get out now."

Several heads swivelled in Ginny's direction, some with irate expressions to boot, but she didn't care. This was her boardroom and her firm, and if she didn't want these people here, then they could just get the fuck out. Ask her if she cared.

When people didn't move out of their chairs fast enough, she delivered one of her notorious 'I will feast on your entrails if you don't move your arses right this very second!' faces.

"I don't believe I need to repeat myself."

That spurred several people into action as they hastily grabbed their belongings and headed for the exit. Draco, who had been looking as cool and casual as a cucumber, leaned back in his chair and raised a pale eyebrow at Ginny's lack of propriety. She ignored the look and grabbed the doors, slamming them shut behind her.

"Bad day, Weasley?"

"You and I need to get a few things straight," she said, ignoring his question. "You do _not_ hire staff without consulting me first."

"I was going to consult you afterwards."

"Afterwards? Malfoy, you're not my boss."

"No, I'm your _partner_. So what gives you the right to barge in here and order everyone out like you're _my_ boss?" He adjusted his tie with a sniff. "You know, Weasley, I could always take over this business as the primary investor and force you out."

"Try it and see what happens, Malfoy. You wouldn't last a day without me telling you the difference between your head and your arse!"

From that point on, the discussion got even more heated. And as Ginny continued to verbally tear Draco a new one (the word 'arse' and 'bastard' were thrown around a lot), Justin, Seamus and Lavender hung outside the boardroom and eagerly listened in on the explosive row.

"Wow, she's really lighting into him," Lavender whispered, and Seamus nodded proudly in agreement.

"What I don't understand is why Malfoy's even here in the first place. Isn't he supposed to be a _silent_ partner?"

Justin shook his head. "Doesn't seem so silent to me."

"You don't figure _he's_ gonna be our boss, do you?" Lavender asked, and Seamus visibly paled.

"Merlin, I hope not. I could barely stand the git in school. I don't fancy working for the prat. If Ginny doesn't kill him, I will."

The staff then went about making bets on how long before Ginny threw Draco out on his arse and what spell she'd use to do it. Meanwhile, the odd couple continued their heated row behind closed doors.

"What are you even doing here, Malfoy?"

"I own this firm."

"You do not _own_ it!"

Draco rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Fine, I'm the primary investor. Am I not allowed to over-see the company I have more than an equal share in?"

"By coming in and hiring people without consulting me?" Ginny's arms were so tightly folded beneath her breasts that they looked about to pop out of her blouse at any moment. "I already have my own staff!"

"Finnigan and Finch?"

"_And_ Lavender."

Draco snorted. "Oh well, my apologies. Can't forget the invaluable Ms Brown."

"_And_ Theo and Padma are also on my consulting staff!" Ginny added brusquely, and Draco tilted his head to the side.

"Padma _Patil_?"

"Yes, she's a barrister." Ginny sniffed and released her hands before smoothing them down length of her fluted powder blue skirt. "I'm hoping to bring her on full-time once we go international."

"Ah yes, _international_." Draco leaned back in the cushioned chair and rested his hands on the armrests. "And how do you plan on doing that without my help?"

Ginny's brow knitted in confusion. "What do you mean without _your_ help?"

"Well, for starters, how do you plan on advertising?" He lifted his palms with a shrug. "You do know I have a monopoly on the Wireless."

"Rights which you seized in a hostile takeover!"

"I don't hear the Ministry complaining with its very own and free, might I add, government channel and its tidy five percent shareholding."

Ginny placed her hands on her hips and huffed. "Whatever. How I plan to take _my_ firm global is unimportant. Right now, the pressing issue at hand here is _you_."

"Me?"

"Yes, you." Ginny walked over to his chair and sat down on the edge of the board table. Draco's eyes subtly scanned the expanse of her exposed calves before returning to her face, which she kept as expressionless as possible. "Why the sudden backing of my firm?"

"I thought you needed an investor."

"An investor, yes, not someone to muddle around in my affairs."

"Affairs?" Draco scoffed and stood to his feet. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her neck, and she involuntarily shuddered. "Weasley, I'm surprised you can fit through doors with that giant head of yours."

"You're one to talk." Ginny jerked her head away while desperately trying to keep her breathing as even as possible as Draco continued to invade her personal space the only way he knew how. "Tell me, Malfoy, why did you bid on yourself at the auction—and under _my_ name?"

Draco smirked. "I was wondering when you'd catch on to that."

"Wait—you _wanted_ me to find out?"

He nodded silently in answer and took a step back. The loss of his warm breath on her neck had Ginny breathing in relief; that was until he sauntered around to her side of the table. He bent down and rested both hands on the table before leaning in close, causing her to shift away and lean back. For an etiquette-obsessed man, he certainly had no qualms over invading her personal space.

"Of course, Weasley. How else would I get you to willingly agree to be partners?"

"Partners?" She shook her head, her brow creasing in confusion then revelation. "Wait—are you _blackmailing_ me?"

"Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sexy."

"Unbelievable!"

Her hands went to his chest and she shoved him away so forcefully that he teetered back on the heels of his loafers. His eyes flashed dangerously in the fluorescent light and an ugly sneer crossed his features.

"Steady on!" He shook out his jacket collar and smoothed his hands down his shirt, attempting to recompose himself before flashing her that annoying smirk she hated so much. "No one needs to know you plan on welshing on the donation, Weasley."

"Welshing?" Ginny's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets and she jumped to her feet. "_Welshing_? I'll have you know I've never welshed on anything in my life!" Her index finger stabbed at his hardened chest, driving him back. "_You_ set this entire thing up to entrap me, to keep me under your thumb and use this as some sort of bargaining chip! But you have underestimated me, Malfoy."

He grabbed her finger and held her hand against his chest. "Oh, I have, have I?"

His expression had become mercurial but his palm was hot on hers. Ginny had to fight to control her breathing, but eventually she snatched her hand away and balled it into a fist, lowering it to her side.

"You don't think I won't eventually use this against you? Show your high society mates how you had to bid on yourself under _my_ name? How pathetic!"

"You can't prove that."

"Oh, I can't?" Ginny's right eyebrow disappeared into her hairline and she folded her arms beneath her breasts. "Don't make this a personal challenge, Malfoy."

Draco held up his hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn't dream of letting you loose on the unsuspecting populace, Weasley." He turned down his hands and slipped them into his pockets with a shrug. "Besides, everything turned out well for everyone involved, didn't it?

"I don't have to suffer through a date with a boring old woman or a besotted thirty-something socialite and the War Fund received a sizeable donation without me playing the part of the philanthropist. Didn't want to insult anyone's intelligence by claiming to be charitable."

Ginny harrumphed in reply but Draco just saddled up next to her, resting his rear end against the table. His shoulder nudged hers and she lowered her arms, inadvertently inhaling his cologne. He smelled of agarwood and leather and something distinctly male. Bastard. Her spine stiffened at his close proximity but she did not move. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing him how uncomfortable he made her.

"And now you have an investor for you firm," he said, slipping his hand out of his pocket, to touch her hip maybe, but she had moved and his fingers inadvertently grazed her upper thigh.

Ginny shifted away and braced her hands on the edge of the table, creating a barrier between her and Draco. Annoyingly, she could still feel the tease of his fingers on her thigh, long after he had withdrawn his hand.

"And now you can go throw the Muggles out of the bottom five stories."

Ginny inhaled sharply, her jaw tightening almost painfully. The man was just so damn cavalier that she wanted to punch him in the throat. No one ever made her this angry, ever.

"What, are you saying you don't want an investor now?" Draco pressed, and after a moment Ginny simply shook her head, as if she had been struck mute. "No? Fabulous, then." He pushed himself off the table and offered her a hand. "I think I'm ready to meet your—no, _our_ team now."

Ginny took in a steadying breath before relaxing her jaw. Nodding resolutely, she stared at his outstretched hand for a second before ignoring it and standing up on her own. Her fingers went to her attire, straightening out her blouse and skirt, before walking past Draco out the door and into the reception area.

Draco followed closely behind, his hands entrenched in his pockets. Ginny quickly located her three confused and curious employees and motioned to them with a sharp wave.

"Seamus, Justin, Lavender—I'd like to introduce you all to our new investor." When Draco unceremoniously cleared his throat, Ginny closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She brought a knuckle to rub at her eyebrow before opening her eyes and putting on a fake smile. "My new _partner_, Draco Malfoy."

Draco gave a slight nod in greeting to the trio and leaned back against Lavender's desk, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement. Ginny wasn't sure if he was angling for recognition as their new boss or if he was waiting for Lavender to swoon. However, instead of a hello or a smile or even a titter on Lavender's part, the three just stared at him in abject shock.

Seamus was the first to speak, "Oi!" He was looking at Ginny while rudely pointing to Draco. "He's our boss now?"

"We _just_ get full-time contracts and now we have to answer to this git—gentleman?" Justin asked.

"Ah, feck!" Seamus shook his head like it was about to fall off. "Bugger me! This is just my luck, innit?"

Draco simply stood there, expressionless. After a moment, Lavender eventually gave the blond aristocrat what he wanted, which consisted of blushing and batting her eyelashes coquettishly at him.

"Hiiii."

Ginny lightly feathered her fingers over her temple and behind her ear before laughing softly to herself. This was it; there was no turning back now. Draco Malfoy was her partner. She wondered when the earth was going to open up and swallow her whole.

"Welcome to Weasley and Associates," she said, holding out her hand to him, and he took it with a smirk.

"Don't you mean _Malfoy_, Weasley and Associates?"

"No, I don't." She dropped his hand with a scowl and retrieved her briefcase from Lavender's desk.

Without another word, Ginny headed for her office, leaving Draco and the others behind. The sooner this day ended, the better. She knew all too well that the more time she spent with Draco Malfoy, the more likely he'd end up sneezing bat bogeys.

**.**

**.**

**.**

THEO WAS ALREADY slumped over the bar with a tumbler of whisky dangling from his fingertips when Draco walked inside the tavern. It was a seedy sort of tavern nestled on the corner of the equally seedy Knockturn Alley. The lights were dimly lit, just dark enough to hide its shady patrons and the curling blue smoke that wafted in the air.

Draco spotted Theo alone at the bar, nursing a drink like it was his last, seemingly drunk. But as Draco drew nearer, he began to notice how alert Theo's eyes were, how sober.

He was on the job.

"Theo."

The tall blond glanced up, his green eyes alert as though he had been expecting Draco. He raised his glass in salutations.

"Draco, nice to see you. What are you doing here?" He shifted in his seat. "Or should I ask what you're doing _back_ here in a place like this?"

Draco gave Theo a snide look before sliding into the seat next to him. "I was looking for you. Tracey told me I'd find you here." He motioned to the half-empty drink. "Hard at work, I see."

Theo wrapped a protective arm around his drink and very subtly motioned to a May-December couple seated in the corner. The wizard and young witch were laughing and drinking, canoodling in the booth like two lustful lovebirds. They were clearly inebriated and unaware that they were being surveilled. After a moment, Draco finally recognised the older wizard to be William Hopkirk.

"Well, you've got to spend money to make money," Theo said, tipping his glass to Draco's non-existent one.

"What do you need to make money for?"

"How else will I keep myself in such fine suits?" Theo gestured grandly to his attire. "Plus, I'm thinking of investing in an ascot." Pensive, he swirled the alcohol in his glass and took a slow sip before ordering two more drinks. "So what did you want, Draco?"

"What?" Draco shrugged, feigning offence. "I was just curious about what you did for a living, old boy. Apparently you just sit on your arse and drink, like a true aristocrat."

"Don't forget the smoking."

"I thought you were giving that up."

"I am—" Theo downed the rest of his drink "—but since you're cutting such a dashing picture of myself, I thought I'd include one of my other vices in your portrayal. If there was a proper card game going on here, you could also including gambling to the list and maybe even a bit of a whoring, if the right woman was about."

The bartender set down two drinks and Draco took his, clinking his glass to Theo's in cheers. "You only advocate the best vices, Theo."

"Well, at least I'm not sitting on my arse, counting my money and cackling."

Draco took a sip and paused, his right eyebrow disappearing into his hairline. "Are you suggesting that's what _I_ do?"

"No-no, I imagine you do the periodic swan dive into your vault of gold."

Draco chortled. "You do realise that would likely shatter every bone in my body."

"I never said you were a _bright_ blue blood, Draco."

"Indeed you did not."

A beat of silence passed between them and Draco's shoulders began to tense. He took a long draught of the whisky, feeling it burn down his throat, and caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Theo was sliding a hand up one of his sleeves, covertly extracting a camera the size of Draco's pinkie finger.

After taking a candid shot, Theo slid the camera back up his sleeve. He picked up his drink and turned back towards Draco. "So, this wanting to know what I do for a living—does this have anything to do with you being Ginny's new investor?"

"Partner," Draco amended.

"Partner-investor, whatever you kids want to call it these days." He took a drink and glanced at Draco over the rim of his glass. "Having second thoughts?"

"Not particularly."

"Are you really all that interested in investigating scandals and averting business crises?"

"Not particularly."

Theo snorted into his drink and Draco set down his own glass with a scowl.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what is it?"

"Nothing, it's just—" Theo twisted in his seat "—Draco Malfoy entering a business arrangement because of a girl? Never thought I'd live to see the day."

Draco scoffed. "I'm not doing it for a girl!"

"No, you're doing it for Ginny Weasley," Theo amended, before leaning in conspiratorially, "cause you fancy her."

"I do not."

"That's some mad debating skills you've got there, Draco," Theo quipped. "Consider me convinced."

"Shut it, Nott!"

"How is it that you're not a barrister again?"

"Because I have pride and self-worth."

Theo raised his glass. "Touché."

Draco gritted his teeth in annoyance. Stupid Nott. He was always so bloody flippant. His mouth was going to get him into a lot of trouble one of these days. What had he heard Ginny say to him earlier when she was screaming at him? Ah yes—his mouth was writing cheques his arse couldn't cash.

As Draco continued to stew, the drunken couple from the corner got up to leave. Casually, Theo shifted in his seat, preparing to follow. Just before the couple made it to the door, Theo stood up and fished a gold Galleon from his pocket and threw it down onto the bar.

"Look, Draco, I've got a mark to tail, but I'll leave you with some advice before I go."

Draco glanced up. "And what would that be?"

"Ginny Weasley isn't some conquest," Theo said. "You're not going to charm the knickers off her. If you're only interested in the chase, it's going to be a very short track, my friend, on which she'll leave your mangled arse behind." He gently cuffed Draco on the cheek with a wink. "But chin up, mate. There are always other fish in the sea, yeah?"

Conquest? What on earth made him think that Draco wanted to ensnare a Weasley—a Weasley of all people!

But before Draco could retort, Theo was already out the door, leaving a very confused and a very annoyed Draco behind.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	6. The Frump and the Git

BACK AT MALFOY Enterprises, business was running as smooth as usual. Draco's attention, however, was elsewhere, drifting back to his conversation with Theo from the other night.

Theo had warned him off Ginny, informing him that the girl wasn't just some conquest. Draco had scoffed at the notion. He wasn't try to bed the Weasley woman, and it wasn't as if he even cared about being partners with her. He just liked annoying her.

It was a force of habit.

Draco had more important work to attend to, such as running the parent company of his conglomerate. Like Ginny had astutely pointed out when she took on his case (or rather when his mother had hired her to _make_ a case), Malfoy Enterprises had its fingers in many pies. From Wireless to alchemy to Muggle pharmaceuticals and technologies, there was almost no industry that the Malfoy name wasn't attached to on some level. And now he was funding a crisis management firm.

Well, why not?

Asking his secretary to hold all calls, Draco retired to his private office. He needed to take a break from the tedious conference calls and meetings and simply unwind. But after fifteen minutes of standing in front of his window and taking in the view, his peace was disturbed by a brief knock and the door to his office opened wide.

He didn't even bother to tear his gaze away from the window, or acknowledge whoever it was who had dared to entered his office unannounced. By the smell of the light citrus perfume and the sound of heels lightly clicking on the floor, he assumed it was Mrs Preston, his personal assistant.

"Here's the dossier you requested, Mr Malfoy."

Draco nodded in response, which was really more of a curt dismissal. A second or two passed when he vaguely realised that Mrs Preston hadn't yet left his office. Glancing over his shoulder, he took in the sight at the door: a bombshell beauty with hazel-green eyes and long chestnut hair worn pin-straight and reaching half-way down her back.

He frowned because he didn't recognise her.

"Who are you?"

The girl, who Draco suspected was barely out of her teens, blushed and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She dropped her gaze to her feet before meeting his silver-grey eyes with a shy smile.

"I'm Yvonne Bauer, but you can call me Yvee." When Draco failed to address her in any manner, Yvonne nervously cleared her throat. "I, uh, was sent from HR. Mrs Preston is in labour right now, so I'll be filling in her stead for the next few weeks."

Draco raised a pale eyebrow. Pregnant? So that's what that protruding belly was all about. He thought she was just getting fat. Well, she carried it (the baby) rather well for him to not even suspect, not that he was the sort of employer who fixated on the appearance of his employees. He hired Mrs Preston for her competence, not her looks.

This Yvonne girl, though, looked far too pretty to be any good at her job. But then Draco was pretty and he was a veritable genius and business magnate. The point here being that one shouldn't always assume unattractive was synonymous with intelligence, or else someone like Ronald Weasley would be likened to a rocket scientist.

"Welcome aboard, Ms Bauer," Draco muttered blandly, before turning his gaze back to the window. "I trust Mrs Preston brought you up to speed on how I like things run around here."

"Yes, of course." Draco could practically feel her vibrating from fifteen feet away. "And can I just say how _honoured_ I am to be here working for you, for Malfoy Enterprises."

"Mhm."

Clearing her throat, Yvonne managed to muster on, "Do you need anything else, Mr Malfoy?"

"No, I'll be spending most of my time in the Waterloo Quarter today." He turned around, meeting her hazel eyes with a cold expression. "Only reach me there if something urgent comes up. I trust you'll delegate the less important tasks to the vice president and the other CEOs."

"O-of course." She almost bowed. "Yes, sir."

Yvonne then quietly left his office. Once the door clicked shut behind her, Draco exhaled deeply with a sigh. He sucked on his teeth and glanced down at his desk, staring at nothing in particular. He wasn't entirely truthful with his new temporary assistant when he told her there was nothing he needed. He _did_ need something or _someone_, in point of fact, but she wasn't here. Grabbing his jacket, Draco decided to see to that very detail himself.

Instead of Apparating to Ginny's office like he normally would, Draco had found himself outside on the streets of London—_walking_. He hadn't even known he was crossing the Westminster Bridge until he almost bumped into a tourist. Sidestepping the Muggle pedestrian, Draco shook his head with a scowl and continued onwards through the thickening fog, lost in thought.

Why exactly was he heading to Ginny Weasley's office? And why did he always experience this uneasy feeling whenever he was around her?

He supposed he could reason his growing agitation (irritation?) with the fact that she reminded him of his past, but then Draco still surrounded himself with old schoolmates, particularly Theo and Blaise, and even the Greengrass sisters from time to time. It wasn't like Ginny reminded him of Potter, as Draco often met with the bespectacled git on more occasions than he would have liked.

No, it was something else that drew him to the redhead, as well as repulsed. That something else surely had to be one of the reasons why he had decided to invest in her company in the first place. He was certain it had everything to do with the impression she had marked upon him when she so brazenly barrelled her way into his life in a stunning backless evening gown and summarily dismissed a naked woman from his bed.

Her poise, her command, her intelligence, _her_ simply—she was just so _refreshing_. Very few people in his line of work ever were.

Refreshing as she might have been, Draco was far from besotted with the little witch. Admittedly, he hadn't thought much of her at school. She was just another stroppy member of the Weasley brood and, worse yet, a Potter fangirl. Toss in a frumpy wardrobe, ginger hair and freckles, and it was enough to make him want to vomit. But this slightly older and fashionable Ginny Weasley was far from frumpy. Perhaps she was still a bit stroppy, but it was in an almost endearing way.

Draco stopped walking.

Why in Salazar's name was he even thinking that a stroppy ginger could be endearing or attractive? And a Weasley at that? Had he gone mental?

With an angry roll of his shoulders, Draco continued his stroll. His interest in Ginny Weasley had nothing to do with infatuation—not with her physically at least. Not that she wasn't attractive in her own right.

She wasn't half good-looking, he supposed, but Draco had bedded many _beautiful_ women. Yet none of these women had made him feel half as alive as he felt when he had a row with Ginny; none of them had captivated him the way Ginny did when she talked about what she did for a living. It was little things, like the way her breath would speed up and her hands would gesture wildly and her face would animate as she put together pieces of a seemingly insolvable puzzle.

It was pure unadulterated passion.

Draco wanted that kind of excitement in his life, to find that simple fulfilment that motivated him to get out of bed each morning—that _made_ him want to jump out of bed each morning. He supposed part of this want had to do with alleviating the boredom that was his daily corporate life, but the desire for adventure and banter was front and centre. Of all people, Ginny Weasley challenged him—actually challenged him. But he wasn't sure she felt the same way. In fact, he was fairly certain she loathed and resented his very presence.

Part of that resentment most likely had to do with residual feelings of their shared past as house enemies, but another part had to do with Draco's inability to treat Ginny much differently than he had at school.

He had come far since Hogwarts, or so he had thought. He had managed to take over the Malfoy business and cordially dealt with Muggles and Mudbloods (he didn't dare call them as such to their faces) on a daily basis. Hell, he even held a few civil conversations with Potter since the end of the war. Draco believed he had overcome quite a few of his past prejudices and had become a respected pillar in the wizarding community, even if it were only the business aspect.

But more than that, Draco knew how to be charming; he knew how to cajole. Ginny Weasley, however, was immune to his charms and Draco was stymied. Frankly, he didn't quite know how to act around the redhead. He could be a git to her. Git he knew very well, especially a bigoted git or even a ponce. He could even be civil towards her, which he believed he had been, but somehow it seemed all wrong and neither one of them was buying it.

It didn't help that he had made it seem like she had bid on him at the auction. He might have crossed a line there. And he wasn't lying when he said that he was extorting her. He wanted to invest in her firm and he wanted to become a partner, and he knew the only way she'd agree to such terms was if he had something socially damaging to hang over her head like the Sword of Damocles.

Draco also wasn't lying when he admitted to her that he had done it because he didn't fancy going on a date with any of the women at the gala. Despite him being labelled as a playboy these past few years, Draco wasn't exactly the most sociable man of society. He wasn't as handsome or suave as Blaise or as witty as Theo. Though fork-tongued when the occasion called for it, too often Draco was curt, blunt and apathetic, which didn't bode well for long-term relationships. Not that he was seeking some form of monogamy. He tended to Disapparate the moment a paramour mentioned buzz words like 'boyfriend' and 'commitment'.

But there was another reason why Draco had chosen Ginny Weasley as his date—a reason he didn't entirely understand. So instead of questioning his own motives and wandering about the streets of London like some sort of Mad Tom dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit, Draco peered around the buildings for the closest deserted alleyway to Apparate from.

He wasn't going to let this Weasley woman linger on his mind any longer.

**.**

**.**

**.**

THE FIVE OF them were hovering over a plate of spanakotiropita and lamb kebabs and slapping at each other's hands when Draco walked into the small kitchenette unannounced.

Five pairs of eyes glanced up at the blond. The men grunted in greeting before resuming their attack on the Greek spread while the women tried to appear modest in appetite, and failed. Ginny violently speared a spanakotiropita with her fork and crammed it into her ravenous maw without any respect at all for propriety.

"Back so soon?" she quipped between bites.

Draco took off his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair next to Theo's. "My healer insisted I indulge in banality at least twice a week, so here I am." He opened his arms wide and Ginny merely glowered at him, resuming her meal. Draco then turned to his best mate, who was currently shovelling food into his mouth hand over fist. "Theo, are you always here stuffing your face?"

Theo shrugged before patting the chair next to him and motioning to the platter of food. "Draco, come, sit." He dug back in gluttonously. "Have a bit."

Draco took the seat but declined the meal. "Is that all you do around here, eat?" He glanced over at Ginny, who was delicately dabbing at her lips with a serviette. "Don't you have any cases?"

At that exact moment the switchboard went off in the reception area and Lavender jumped in her seat. She shot up out of her chair and jogged out of the room, her heels clicking along the tiled floor.

Ginny watched her go and took a sip of her iced coffee before turning back to Draco. His eyes were subtly roaming over her form, taking in her attire with an almost imperceptible nod of approval. Ginny didn't know whether to be flattered or furious. She settled for disinterested.

"Malfoy—" she shifted slightly in her seat, crossing her legs, and he followed the movement "—there's something you should know about this team. We are gladiators."

He arched an eyebrow in intrigue. "Gladiators?"

"Gladiators in robes," Seamus added with a chuckle at Draco's confused expression.

"Suits," Justin amended, motioning to his attire, which happened to be lacking a jacket and tie at the moment. "We're more like gladiators in suits, really."

"But we do don those robes when we pay a visit to Diagon Alley," Theo added, taking a bite out of his lamb kebab, and Justin nodded.

"Oh yes, we most certainly do."

Ginny tried hard to stifle her laughter while Draco looked downright befuddled—_angrily_ befuddled, which only made it harder for Ginny not to laugh outright.

"Suits, robes, whatever," Draco groused. "What on earth do you mean by gladiators?"

They all looked to Ginny, who took another sip of her drink before setting it down. "Gladiators fight to the death for their masters. In our case, we fight for our clients. When we take on a case, we live and breathe it, devote all of our time to that one client. We will sweat blood and tears for him, if need be. Simply put, we never give up."

"Needless to say there's only so few of us who can sweat blood and tears at a time," Seamus drawled. "So we generally go by a case-by-case basis. We rarely take on more than one client at a time."

"And I was an exception to that rule?" Draco's eyes were still trained on Ginny like twin grey laser beams, and she nodded.

"We'll only take on two clients at once, if one of the cases isn't constrained by a time limit." She motioned to Theo. "And it helped that Theo insisted I take your case. Fortunately you weren't facing any sort of legal entanglement."

Draco speared his fingers through his hair with a nod. "So you generally take cases with some sort of legal involvement or _scandals_ that your wealthy and illustrious clients want kept out of the papers?"

"We manage crises so you don't have to. We keep your name out of the media, at least in a negative light, and maintain your sterling reputation as though it had never been tarnished." Brown eyes met grey and they connected like magnets. "Or we make you look better than you were before."

Draco smiled thinly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had patiently listened to Ginny's speech and was now eyeing her like a fine three-course meal that he was eager to sink his teeth into.

Though distracted and slightly disheartened, Ginny refused to look away first. When the corners of Draco's lips began to pull upwards into a smirk, her nostrils flared. Draco didn't exactly have dimples, not like Theo, but there was a line in the shape of a crescent moon that usually formed next to his mouth whenever he smirked, which was often. And Merlin help her, it was sexy as hell.

"This is definitely something that appeals to Muggle celebrities and politicians," Ginny told him, quelling the heat rising in her chest. "And since we're really the first to bring this sort of service to the wizarding world, I believe we can go quite far with it. A lot of wizarding companies could benefit from their own mini internal crisis management team, which, of course, we would train."

It was Ginny's experience that many wizarding companies failed to realise how essential a crisis manager was. The credibility and reputation of a company was heavily influenced by the perception of its response to a crisis. Organisation, communication and quick response were all key to surviving scandals. However, responding to such crises in a timely fashion was a challenge to most businesses and especially individuals.

Scandals and other issues had to be dealt with quickly and handled privately, setting up a stable line of communication throughout an established hierarchy, which would ultimately contribute to a successful crisis-communication process. It was Ginny's job as a crisis manager to open consistent lines of communication between her team and her clients, as well as the people with whom her clients had to answer to, whether that be shareholders, a government authority, a third party or the public in general.

This was why crisis managers like Ginny were so highly sought-after in the wizarding world. She was a rare and valuable gem.

"Do you ever plan on offering Muggle companies your services?" Draco asked, and Ginny exchanged a wary look with her team.

"I do believe our methods utilised in the Muggle world would be frowned upon by the Ministry," Ginny answered, and Draco's smirk only widened.

"Oh, I'm sure you could get Potter-darlin' to turn a blind eye."

Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously at the insinuation. She was about to issue a scathing retort when Lavender interrupted by stepping into the room and clearing her throat.

"Uh, Theo?"

"Yes, Lav?" Theo wiped at his mouth with a serviette and Lavender smiled nervously, motioning to someone outside the door.

"You have a visitor."

Just then an irritatingly beautiful woman stepped past Lavender into the kitchenette. Heads turned and mouths dropped open. This model beauty was here for _Theo_?

The woman in question was tall and well-built, dressed in a pleated dove grey Peridot frock with a drape neckline to baseline that fit her dangerously curvaceous body like a glove. Her bone structure was nothing short of immaculate, if not a touch on the broad side, with a strong chin and square jaw and alabaster skin that bore faint traces of make-up. But what really made this woman stand out were her cold electric blue eyes and long wavy black hair that reached just above the swell of her ample breasts.

"So this is where you've been hiding?" The woman's voice was husky, suiting her looks, and recognition immediately sparked in Theo's eyes.

"Millie! Long time no see." Theo stood up and walked past Draco's chair, taking the brunette by the hand, which he planted a chaste kiss upon. "You're looking lovely."

"And you." The woman dropped her hand, looking far from charmed but certainly amused. She pointed at Theo's breast pocket where he kept his cigarette case. "Going through withdrawal yet?" When Theo sucked on his teeth in annoyance, the brunette chuckled lowly in her throat and tapped her Hermes clutch against her palm. "I stopped by your office and Tracey told me I could find you here."

"This is my kitchen away from kitchen."

"I can see that."

At this point Draco had stood up and decided to make his presence known. He casually rested his backside against the table near Ginny's seat and folded his arms across his chest.

"Millie."

"Draco." She turned towards him and her smile went cold. "I have to admit I'm quite surprised to find you here."

"Well, you know me." He leaned back and briefly glanced down at Ginny. "I'm always about acquiring new assets."

"Assets are what you're calling them now?"

Draco's grin was lascivious. "You see, I'm Weasley's boss." Ginny dug a finger into his kidney and he winced. "Partner."

"Partners? Well, we've all come a long way from Hogwarts, haven't we?" The raven-haired beauty feathered her fingers across her temple before tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

That was when the pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place for Ginny.

"Millie? Millicent Bulstrode?"

The brunette turned towards Ginny and offered her a thin smile before extending her hand. Ginny rose to her feet and took it, noting the impressive three carat asscher cut diamond engagement ring on her finger.

"Ah, Weasley." Millicent firmly shook Ginny's hand, almost crushing it with her tenacious grip. "It's still Weasley, isn't it? You're not a Potter now, are you?"

"N-no." Ginny quickly shook her head and grimaced slightly, letting go of Millicent's hand. She'd have to rub some tiger balm on it later. Obviously _some_ things hadn't changed. "It's still Weasley, but please call me Ginny."

Millicent said nothing but nodded infinitesimally in acknowledgement. She wasn't exactly rude but she was blunt and curt like Draco, and as imposing as a bull standing in a market square. At Hogwarts it was Millicent's size, gait and rough conduct that had made her intimidating; now it was her beauty and cold detachment. But at least she appeared to be over her bullying stage (or so Ginny hoped).

"Millicent Bulstrode? No way!" Seamus slapped the table in surprise while Justin and Lavender seemed too slack-jawed to speak. "You're so thin—I mean, wow! You look amazing!"

"You ought to shut your mouth, Finnigan," Millicent quipped dryly, "you're attracting flies."

Seamus quickly shut his gob but couldn't help eye-balling the tall statuesque brunette like she was an alien who had just landed on earth and said she was going to personally probe him. Millicent Bulstrode was now pretty and, for the most part, was acting cordial? It was either a case of plastic surgery and a personality transplant or they were dealing with a pod person. Seamus seemed to be leaning towards the latter.

"So what did you need from me, Millie?" Theo asked, and Millicent sighed. Not a dramatic sigh reserved for idiots or damsels in distress, but a weary 'I wish I didn't have to do this' sort of sigh.

"Well, I was hoping to employ your services; however, after a brief chat with Tracey, she told me that perhaps Weasley here would be better suited for my needs." She turned towards Ginny and wrinkled her nose. "I never thought someone like you would be useful in this sort of situation—_n__o offence_."

"You now, Millicent," Ginny said, crossing her arms in annoyance, "using the qualifier 'no offence' after insulting someone doesn't exactly make it any less offensive."

Millicent placed a hand on her hip and gave Ginny a good look-over before grimacing. "Dear Merlin, don't tell me you've morphed into Granger."

"W-what? No!"

The brunette dropped her hand with a nod. "Good, then just insult me back like you normally would. None of this polite passive-aggressive bollocks." She then abruptly turned towards Draco, ignoring the flabbergasted Ginny entirely. "Draco, what sort of do-gooders have you got yourself involved with? Theo's a bad enough influence."

Draco merely shrugged in answer while Theo tipped an invisible hat to the brunette.

"Ta, Millie-darlin'."

"Oh shut it, you weedy git."

Theo dramatically clutched at his chest, as if wounded. "Ah, please tell me you've ensnared a masochist to indulge in your sadist urges, Mistress Millie."

The room went silent and suddenly the three ex-Slytherins snorted aloud, sharing a brief laugh at each other's expense. Meanwhile, the ex-Gryffindors and Hupplepuff observed the jovial display with slight confusion.

So this was how Slytherins acted friendly, by ripping into one another?

"Uhm, so what services are you requiring from us exactly, Millicent?" Ginny hedged, and Millicent's rare smile vanished, replaced with a sombre expression.

"It's not me who requires your services, exactly. Hold on."

Millicent stepped outside the door and walked back to the reception area, speaking a language Ginny didn't understand but was faintly familiar with. A moment later Millicent returned in the doorway, gesturing to a man close on her heels.

"Everyone, this is my fiancé, Kaneshiro Makoto."

A tall gentleman stepped inside the kitchenette and Ginny's eyes immediately travelled up, across the broad planes of his chest and thick column of neck until they rested on his face. Her jaw nearly plummeted to the floor at what she saw. Standing before her was perhaps the most beautiful Asian man she had ever laid her eyes on.

He was taller than any other man in the room, save Theo, with unblemished ivory-tanned skin that looked silky smooth to the touch. He was attired in a stylish slate grey suit, which he filled out _very_ nicely, and a white button-down dress shirt with the first two buttons undone to expose a collarbone that seemed to be carved from marble.

Ginny's eyes eventually travelled back up to his oval-shaped face, which was set with two beautiful slanted onyx eyes shielded by obscenely long lashes, a straight nose and a mouth made for kissing. His finely chiselled jaw and severe cheekbones were offset by ink-black hair that barely reached his shoulders and was half queued in a ponytail.

The redhead swallowed hard, her mouth having suddenly gone dry. This was the sort of man who probably turned other men gay wherever he went. Ginny briefly eyed the other men in the room with her peripheral vision, but they looked more envious than enraptured. Well, whatever. Clearly this beautiful man looked as though he had just fallen from the heavens and landed on earth to live as a mortal amongst them.

Millicent Bulstrode was one lucky witch.

Shaking herself from her initial fascination, Ginny stepped forward and extended her hand to the handsome man. "Mr Kaneshiro, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ginny."

"Ginny," he repeated in near-perfect English, smiling handsomely as they briefly shook hands. Letting go, Mr Kaneshiro glanced back at his fiancée, who was motioning to Draco for him to greet next.

"_Kaneshiro-kyou_," Draco said, bowing formally. "_Watashi no namae wa Draco desu_."

Mr Kaneshiro bowed in return, his smile widening at Draco's willingness to speak his language, but then he lifted a hand in a halting gesture. "Please, call me Kaneshiro. I would rather forgo honorifics here in London."

Everyone nodded in relief and Ginny glanced over to see Seamus's brow deeply furrowed as he vainly tried to sound out the Asian man's surname, _ka-nay-sheer-oh_? Trying not to smirk, Ginny directed them all into the boardroom, as it was far more suited to formal introductions and discussions than the small kitchenette.

Once inside, she motioned for Millicent and her fiancé to take a seat in one of the plush chairs. "Mr Kaneshiro, could you please give me the details of your situation?"

The ridiculously handsome man looked slightly confused at first, but then Millicent quickly translated and his eyes lit up in understanding.

"Ah yes, I need assistance with regards to my nii-sama. His wife and their two daughters are missing."

Everyone else in the room took a mental step back, their mouths agape in collective shock. They certainly hadn't expected this sort of case. A kidnapping?

"Looks like we've just upgraded from gladiators to crime-fighting superheroes," Seamus muttered, his eyes still glazed over in shock.

"Right." Theo tapped his finger against his breast pocket. "I think I'll have to invest in a cape."

Ginny raised a hand to silence the murmuring and Draco stepped beside her with his arms crossed, his expression serious.

This would be the first time Ginny ever took on a kidnapping case. Did they wish her to mediate between Makoto's brother and the kidnapper, or kidnappers? Or was there something else? Something they didn't want the public to find out?

Ginny sat down and pulled her chair in close to the couple. "Please, tell me everything—and start from the beginning."

**.**

**.**

**.**


	7. Trouble with the Law

IN PROMINENT CIRCLES of society there were certain questions one did not ask, certain lines one did not cross. Draco Malfoy, however, didn't seem to hold such propriety behind closed doors. Not only did he cross such lines, but he rubbed them out and redrew them to suit his convenience.

When Seamus and the others had offered Mr Kaneshiro a tour of the office while awaiting his brother's arrival, Draco had seized his opportunity. He quickly shut the door to the boardroom and cornered Millicent Bulstrode, effectively locking Ginny and Theo inside with them.

"The Kaneshiros, eh?" Draco sat on the edge of the table and laced his fingers together over a crossed knee. "How'd you swing that, Millie?"

"They were looking to open the bloodlines," she said with an indifferent shrug. "Hapa babies happen to be all the rage these days."

Draco rolled his eyes. "C'mon, what is it, really? You've got good blood in you, Millie, but the Kaneshiros are even more pureblood than our lot." He motioned to himself and Theo. "They're bloody royalty in Japan."

Millicent's eyes narrowed and she all but growled, "Get to your point, Draco."

"No offence, Millie, but you're half."

"What's wrong with being half?" Ginny asked, insulted on behalf of Millicent, yet the witch in question didn't look remotely put-out.

"Nothing. You can still be half and have a good name. Or you can be pureblood and not." He smirked at Ginny before turning his attention back to Millicent. "Even if the Kaneshiro family's branching out or trying to correct their image or whatnot, they could've just as easily found a pureblood here." He tilted his head to the side. "I believe Astoria's still single. Though, to be honest, I've probably ruined her for other men."

Theo snorted from the other side of the room and they all glanced over in his direction. He looked up, feeling their eyes on him, and pointed to his mobile phone.

"Sorry, Finch sent me a joke."

Ginny frowned. How come Justin never sent her jokes or fonts or texts or whatever they were called? Instead, she only got work-related phone calls. Did he think she wouldn't find the jokes funny? She had an awesome sense of humour, if she said so herself.

"So you doubt my desirability as a mother to a potential heir? Is that what you're saying, Draco?" Draco, thankfully, didn't respond one way or the other, and Millicent sniffed haughtily. "They value my ancestry just as much as any pureblood here or in Japan. Think about it, Draco. Why were _we_ even friends in school?"

Millicent Bulstrode might have been half-blood, but both of her parents had good names. The Bulstrodes were just as old as the Malfoys and the Blacks. While her mother, Bijou, was half, she was one-eighth Veela and was directly related to the Durmstrangs, which was nothing to turn one's nose up at. Furthermore, she was an alumnus of Beauxbatons, a school her ancestors had helped build. Mrs Bulstrode also happened to be quite the stunner, and Millicent seemed to have taken after her . . . eventually.

"How did you two meet?" Ginny asked, referring to Millicent and her fiancé, as she tried to diffuse the tension in the room. Draco clearly had a knack for riling people up. She knew this through personal experience.

"At Cambridge," Millicent said, nostalgia lacing her tone. "I was assigned as Mako's English liaison officer."

Cambridge University had a secret Occult Department located at Sidgwick Site. It was the only university in the United Kingdom that offered post-secondary magical programmes designed for witches and wizards. In fact, Tracey Davis had also studied at Cambridge and now held a post as an adjunct professor while working on her PhD in Magical History.

"We hit it off so well that I ended up studying abroad."

"Are you sure that isn't what _he_ did?" Draco asked with a snort, and Millicent's eyebrows quirked.

"Puns, Draco? You've lowered yourself to making puns now?"

"Oh shut it, Millie."

Millicent smirked triumphantly at Draco's sulking face and turned back Ginny. "I suspect this is your influence."

"Me?" Ginny pointed to herself and quickly shook her head. "I certainly don't make puns. Besides, Malfoy and I don't exactly travel in the same circles." Well, except for Theo, who was still occupied with that blasted Muggle phone.

"Really?" Millicent appraised Ginny with shrewd eyes. "And yet you bid half a million pounds to secure a date with him."

Ginny's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets and Draco chuckled at her expense. She shot the blond a murderous glare and then quickly recomposed herself.

"That was for charity."

"His charity?" Millicent motioned to Draco and nodded. "I can understand that."

Now it was Draco's turn to scowl. "Well, aren't you two getting along splendidly at my expense."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Millicent said with a smirk, and Ginny joined in with her own smug grin.

Before Draco could retort, there was a light knock on the door. Makoto stepped inside and nodded his greetings to the others before joining his fiancée. The two began conversing in Japanese and Makoto's gaze was fixed almost reverently on Millicent. She gently touched his cheek, causing the handsome man's face to break out into a boyish grin, and he nodded once before leaving.

As they watched him go, Draco turned to Millicent with a raised eyebrow. "What was _that_ all about?"

Ginny leaned forward. She was curious, too. She had always heard that the Japanese were even more reserved with their emotions than the English, and that was saying something. It wasn't like the two were openly snogging or anything of the sort; she just touched his cheek. Yet it seemed like he was soliciting permission for something.

"You heard him," Millicent said with a sniff. "He's going to wait outside for his brother and escort him up to the office."

"Yeah, but he was asking permission, Millie." A light bulb seemed to go off above Draco's head. "You really did snare yourself a masochist, didn't you?"

Millicent rolled her eyes. "He's not a masochist, Draco. He's just a little on the submissive side."

"Submissive to you, you mean." He chortled. "You really are quite the domina, Millie."

"Jealous?"

"No." Draco stood up and briefly looked down at Ginny. "I like being the dominant one in the relationship."

"Oh really?" Millicent pointed back and forth between the blond and the redhead. "How does that work with two dominants in a relationship?"

Relationship? What was she on?

"Whoa-whoa! Wait a second here!" Ginny cried, jumping to her feet. "What are you looking at me for?" She put her hand to her chest before motioning to Draco. "_We_ are not in a relationship."

"Yet."

Three heads swivelled in Theo's direction. He had finally glanced up from his phone only to share a conspiratorial grin with Millicent. Draco just rolled his eyes while Ginny looked beside herself with hostile confusion.

"Et tu, Brutus?" Draco glared at Theo, who only snorted and went back to his phone.

Ginny was about to round house on all three of them when Seamus, Justin and Lavender piled into the boardroom.

"Hey!" Lavender took the seat next to Theo and bent over, watching him play on the phone. "Mr Kaneshiro has gone to wait outside for his brother, so we thought we'd join the conference."

"You've got a nice bloke there, Bulstrode," Seamus said, and Millicent merely smiled thinly in thanks before walking past the Irish wizard on the way to the door.

"I'm going to go keep Mako company. If I leave him alone for too long, some bleached strumpet is likely to come along and try to snatch him up. And then there'll be hell to pay."

Millicent grinned wolfishly before waltzing out of the boardroom. Once they could hear her heels clicking down the hallway towards the lift, Seamus immediately turned to Ginny.

"So what's the plan?"

"No plan yet until Mr Kaneshiro's brother arrives and tells us the details about his wife and daughters' disappearance."

"They were taken here in London?" Lavender asked, and Ginny nodded.

"Apparently so."

"Who would kidnap them?"

"Whoever did it would have known the Kaneshiro family were here in London visiting the Bulstrode family, which means it was probably someone who followed them from Japan."

"Seems more likely than a random stranger," Theo agreed. "But Millie didn't mention a ransom."

"True, and it isn't likely to be a Muggle's doing," Seamus added. "Kaneshiro told us his sister-in-law is a competent witch, or Shinto priestess as they call 'em. The eldest girl is magically inclined, too."

"He really opened up to you," Theo commented dryly, and Seamus winked at him.

"Well, I am easy to talk to."

Draco snorted. "You know, I'm fuzzy on your role in all of this, Finnigan. I understand what Theo does. He's a private investigator—" he waved his hand about "—he investigates things. Finch here I can assume is the communications slash Muggle technologies expert. Brown's the secretary. Weasley here runs the show and signs your paycheques, but I haven't got you sussed out. What exactly do you do, Finnigan?"

"Me?" Seamus pointed to himself and shrugged. "I'm public relations."

"He's our smooth-talking Irish man who gets people to talk and do what we want," Ginny clarified. "He also has several connections in the seedy underground, both wizard and Muggle."

"Why am I not surprised," Draco muttered.

The team continued to discuss the case when after ten minutes they heard the lift ding, signalling the arrival of the Kaneshiro brothers.

Ginny couldn't deny her overwhelming curiosity to meet the eldest brother, Takeshi. She knew very little of magical cultures outside of Europe; however, after listening to the conversation between Draco and Millicent, Ginny was able to surmise that the Kaneshiros were the equivalent of magical royalty in Japan, probably much like the Hogwarts founders were considered in the United Kingdom. In any case, she would have to do some quick researching after the meeting.

Ginny got up and made her way to the reception area to properly greet Takeshi. He was leading the way with Makoto and Millicent trailing a few steps behind, and Ginny couldn't help but be impressed. While Makoto had a captivating appearance that immediately caught one's eye, Takeshi had a commanding presence that simply overwhelmed. Ginny felt the sudden urge to bow or salute or open a vein to pledge her undying loyalty.

Damn beautiful men and their allure!

It was easy to see the resemblance between the two brothers. Takeshi had the same slanted onyx eyes and ink-black hair, but where Makoto's hair barely reached his shoulders, Takeshi's almost reached his waist. It was pin-straight and pulled back into a ponytail, showcasing his immaculate bone structure. Unlike his younger brother, who was clean shaven, Takeshi sported a closely trimmed beard, giving him a bold and masculine look, like some warrior from a bygone era.

"Ms Weasley, I presume?"

He extended his hand and she took it, smiling shyly. The head of the house was dressed in an elegant black suit with a white cashmere-silk dress shirt and skinny tie. She placed him in his late-thirties, although he could easily pass for mid to late-twenties.

"Yes, but please call me Ginny, Mr Kaneshiro."

"And you may call me Takeshi, Ginny." His English was flawless and his voice had a low tenor, subtly flirtatious, and it sent a wonderful shiver down her spine.

Now Ginny had interacted with some of the best-looking, best-dressed and well-groomed men in all of Europe, but Takeshi wasn't just handsome: he was gorgeous, ethereal and exotic. He looked like a painting come to life, like the cover of some erotic novel, not that Ginny had read anything of the sort. But more than that, he was darkly charming. As she had earlier likened Makoto to a fallen angel living as a mortal on earth, Takeshi must have been an archangel waging war on women's capability to speak.

Draco loudly cleared his throat and Ginny finally let go of Takeshi's hand, stepping back so that the blond could introduce himself. Draco bowed formally to the older Kaneshiro, who bowed in return, and then proceeded to speak in what Ginny could only assume was Japanese.

The long-haired bishounen struck out his hand and eagerly shook Draco's, which only made Ginny wonder what Draco had said. Afterwards, there was a slight lull in the conversation and Takeshi's onyx eyes shifted back to Ginny. She tried not to look like a doe caught in the headlights, but it was too late. The man was chillingly handsome.

"May we speak somewhere privately, Ginny?"

"Of course." Ginny shook her head and forced herself to pay attention, while Draco helped by not so gently nudging her as she led the eldest Kaneshiro to the boardroom. "Right this way, if you please."

The rest of the team followed, sans Lavender, who kept Millicent and Makoto entertained in the seating area. Once behind closed doors, Takeshi quickly produced a photograph of his wife, Urara née Shiraishi, and their two daughters, Emiko, nine, and Amaya, three.

"When were you first aware of their disappearance?" Ginny asked, staring intently at the moving family portrait.

"Noon. I had just returned to the hotel after an early morning business meeting."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. It was only half past two right now.

"So they've only been missing a few hours?" Takeshi nodded in affirmative and Ginny inhaled sharply. "How can you be certain they've been kidnapped? They could have simply gone shopping or sight-seeing."

"No, my wife would not leave without my permission," Takeshi said curtly. "She would have informed me beforehand or left me a note. Instead, I returned to the hotel to find it—how do you say, trashed?—and my wife and daughters missing."

"May I ask where your brother and his fiancée were at the time?"

"They were having brunch with Ms Bulstrode's parents."

Ginny nodded and leaned back in her chair, fingering the photograph. "Why didn't you immediately call the Ministry?"

"Because I have many enemies in Japan, rival clans who would like the opportunity to usurp my businesses and authority."

"So there was no ransom note left? No one tried to contact you at all?"

"No. I suspect they want to hold off for a while, make certain that I lose face first." His hands balled into fists on the table. "I cannot have word get back to Japan that I allowed my wife and daughters to be kidnapped."

Ginny reached out and placed a hand gently on top of his. "I understand. We will do everything in our power to help you find your family." When Takeshi's dark eyes met hers, Ginny released his hand. "Tell me, did your wife leave anything behind? Perhaps her wand?"

"We do not use wands in Japan. Our magic is slightly different from yours. We use non-verbal magic and talismans, such as ofuda scrolls. In fact, Urara used to be a high-level priestess and quite proficient with ofuda scrolls for warding and protection spells." He tilted his head to the side in contemplation. "She does use a fan, though I don't recall seeing it left behind."

Ginny inhaled slowly and glanced around the table, locating one of her business cards and a pen. She then wrote a number on it and handed it to Takeshi.

"This is my personal line. Do you know how to use a Muggle phone?" He nodded. "Call me at this number if anyone contacts you with a ransom or Floo me here. Someone will always be at the office and will be able to get in contact with me immediately."

Takeshi stared down at the card and frowned before pocketing it. "Please, can you tell me how you plan on helping me?"

"First, I am going to contact a friend at the Ministry, have him monitor all Portkeys leaving the UK, as well as track any Side-Along Apparations and underage magic use. My associate here—" she threw a hand in Seamus's direction "—has contacts with the underground networks in London. He will keep an ear out for any talk of foreigners and kidnapping.

"In the meantime, we will keep your family's name out of the press. It will be as though you never came to London. So my advice for you now is to go back to your hotel room and wait for the kidnappers to contact you. Mr Nott here will be staying with you, to check out your place and stay with you in case the kidnappers make contact. He'll know exactly what to do."

Theo nodded curtly to Mr Kaneshiro and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. Takeshi then stood up and turned to Ginny, extending his hand. "Thank you, Ginny."

She stood up and gave a firm handshake, bowing slightly. "We will bring your family home to you, Takeshi."

With those words of encouragement, Takeshi bid farewell to the rest of the team and exited the boardroom with Theo following closely behind. Once the Kaneshiro family had left the office, Ginny sat everyone down at the table and started putting her gladiators to work.

"Justin, I need you to gather information on the Kaneshiro family, as well as Urara's background before she married her husband. Her maiden name is Shiraishi, s-h-i-r-a-i-s-h-i. It might be helpful to get some background information on Shinto priests and the culture of Japanese magic, too."

"On it."

"Seamus, I need you to check out your sources. See if there's been any talk about the Kaneshiro family, any foreign wizards popping up in London, kidnappings and the like."

"Right."

"Malfoy, you—where are you going?"

"To work?" Draco had already thrown on his jacket and was in the process of buttoning it up. "I do have other companies to run, Weasley. I'm not under your employ."

"Fine, whatever." She rolled her eyes and watched him exit the boardroom with a frown. Grabbing her jacket, Ginny turned to her secretary. "Lavender, you hold down the fort while I'm gone."

"Where are you going?"

She lingered in the doorway. "I'm going to pay a visit to a friend at the Ministry, see if we can have all out-going Portkeys and Side-Along Apparations tracked, as well as monitor any underage witchcraft performed." She clapped her hands. "Now let's get to work, gladiators!"

"_Nos morituri te salutant_," Justin muttered, bent over his laptop with his fingers ghosting over the keyboard in research.

Seamus laughed and Ginny furrowed her brow in puzzlement.

"What?"

"We who are about to die salute you," Justin translated blandly, while Seamus mock-saluted.

"Oh, ha-ha," she said, glowering. "Quit being so dramatic and get to work."

**.**

**.**

**.**

DRACO ARRIVED HOME in the wee hours of morning. There was almost no point in coming home. He should have just slept at the office, but he had wanted to eat and take a shower, get a few hours rest before heading over to Ginny's office to help her out with the Kaneshiro case.

He had spent the better part of the evening attending to his own business so that he could fit the Kaneshiro case into his schedule. He knew he must have seemed mental, trying to juggle his business with Ginny's crisis management firm, but he couldn't deny the thrill he felt investigating scandals. Snooping into other peoples' business and exchanging witticisms with the feisty redhead were far more entertaining than business acquisitions, mergers and stock meetings.

Throwing his briefcase on the credenza in the foyer, Draco began removing his jacket and tie as he made his way into the kitchen. He hadn't eaten all day and he was running on fumes. Just a quick bite to eat, a shower and a four hour nap and he'd be as good as new. Although as exhausted as he was, his mind was still buzzing, playing over the meeting with the elder Kaneshiro brother.

He and Takeshi weren't so different, if he really thought about it. Both were heads of their households with tremendous filial and business obligations. Unlike Takeshi, Draco hadn't married or secured an heir yet, though he wasn't in a hurry to do either. He too would have to worry about rival businessmen and enemies coveting what was his or putting his family in harm's way. What Draco needed was a strong woman who could take care of herself and their children. A wife who would out-think, out-magic and out-punch anything her opponent threw at her, who wouldn't give a kidnapper the chance to kidnap.

Draco shook his head and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He didn't need to be thinking about such things, like a wife and children. There was still plenty of time before he had to get around to that. Besides, he still hadn't found the right woman yet.

The image of a freckled ginger with a pirate smile and a swollen belly flitted through Draco's mind, and just as quickly he banished it. He shook his head and turned to his meal instead. He was about to make himself a sandwich when the wards sounded in alarm and there was a great pounding at his front door.

"Malfoy, open up! It's the Ministry. We have authority to search the premises for Dark Magic Artefacts!"

Draco set down the loaf of bread and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Not this again.

The knocking did not cease; if only, it grew more persistent. Draco opened his eyes and inhaled slowly. His expression was stolid, but on the inside he was seething. Storming over to the door, he opened it wide with a huff and glared at the intruders.

"Again? You've got to be kidding me!"

Two Aurors stood in the threshold, one wizard and one witch. The burly male Auror barrelled past Draco with his wand raised. His female partner, petite and auburn-haired, handed Draco a writ, and he grimaced.

"Oh, how nice. You're giving me a formal letter to force yourself into my home and demand something I don't have in my possession."

The woman didn't even bat an eyelash, which only aggravated Draco all the more. It also didn't help that the Auror reminded him of Ginny when they went to Hogwarts: small, smug-faced and pretty with an undeserved superiority complex.

"Why can't I use my wand here?" the beefy wizard barked, and Draco rolled his eyes, turning towards the imbecile.

"Because the penthouse has been warded against magic, to deter the necessity for such raids as these."

The wizard sniffed snidely and then motioned for his partner to accompany him upstairs. Draco gnashed his teeth and closed the door. Finding a seat to sit in, he waited and waited. For the next hour and a half the Aurors painstakingly combed through his possessions and furniture, turning his suite upside down.

"All right, Wanda, let's go."

The stocky wizard grunted, clearly upset with not finding the Dark items Draco was accused of storing. Draco, however, was already standing in front the door, blocking their exit.

"I want to know _exactly_ why you're here."

"If you just read the writ—"

"I have _never_ housed Dark objects and the Ministry knows this. My father and mother have to deal with this unjustly invasion on a monthly basis, but I moved into a Muggle neighbourhood to avoid such prejudices. This entire penthouse is warded against magic, so where the hell would I keep these Dark items I'm being accused of holding?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Malfoy, but we're just following orders," said Wanda, the female Auror, and Draco snorted derisively.

"Orders? Who ordered this? Potter?"

"We received an anonymous tip that you were keeping Dark Magic Artefacts in your home, sir. By law, we have to investigate."

Draco threw up his hands. "Oh well, if it's an anonymous tip, then it _must_ be reliable. It's not like any of my business rivals would want my privacy invaded like this or my name slandered."

The two Aurors exchanged brief glances and the beefy one tried to push past Draco. Without magic, the wizard would have to manhandle Draco, which was against Auror and Ministry policy, so he opted for diplomacy.

"Excuse me," he muttered, glaring at Draco, who glared right back.

After a moment, Draco relented and stepped to the side, permitting them exit.

"Have a good day, sir," the witch mumbled, and Draco's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"Get bent!" he snipped, slamming the door shut in their faced before they could Disapparate.

He turned back to his suit and took in a sweeping view of the first floor. Everything was in total disarray. Being the anal-retentive neat-freak that he was, Draco visibly shuddered. He'd really hate to see what his bedroom looked like right now.

Palming his face with a sigh, Draco weighed his options. He couldn't very well complain to the Ministry. He'd have to clean this all up himself, as he didn't have a house-elf and he hated the idea of having other people touch his stuff. But more than that, he hated having things out of order. He'd have to see to this immediately; however, another concern currently weighed on his mind.

Overriding his compulsive nature to clean, tidy and organise, Draco gritted his teeth and grabbed a jacket off the coat stand. He had a feeling he knew exactly who had reported him to the Ministry, and he was going to pay her a personal visit.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	8. Seeing Things

GINNY HADN'T EXPECTED to see Draco Malfoy at her front door. Certainly not at five in the morning when she had just got home and was planning on settling down for a nap.

She had expected Seamus dropping off some papers or maybe even Hermione checking up on her to make sure she hadn't hung herself from a curtain rod yet. But she certainly hadn't expected to see Draco Malfoy standing in her door with water running down his hair and dripping from his obscenely long lashes, conforming to the curvature of his lips and . . .

She stopped cataloguing his features with a shake of her head and frowned. What on earth was she doing? It was quickly becoming difficult for her to concentrate.

"Don't just stand there and gawk, Weasley."

Ginny blinked in shock for a moment, then annoyance, before silently moving aside. Draco shouldered past her into the tiny foyer and made his way in a little farther in, off to the right into her kitchen. She closed the door behind them with a sigh.

To her dismay, Draco was dripping water everywhere and didn't seem to care. He sloughed off his drenched jacket and hung it on the back of one of her paso doble bar stools at the breakfast island. Ginny grimaced as more water pooled onto the floor, but she was at least thankful that her kitchen was tiled.

With his jacket off, Ginny couldn't help but notice how transparent Draco's white dress shirt had become. She could clearly see the outline of his pectorals all the way down to his abs. She could even see the colour of his nipples. She tried her very best not to blush or appear as though she was blatantly checking him out, which she was. Thankfully he was too aggravated to notice her ogling him.

"Did you walk here in the _rain_?"

"Couldn't Apparate from inside my place," he muttered, running his fingers through his damp hair "Plus, I needed some time to cool off."

"Why did you need to cool off?"

"So I didn't end up wrapping my hands around your pretty little neck!"

Ginny baulked at the threat, folding her arms beneath her breasts and arching an eyebrow in intrigue. She had no idea why he was angry but clearly he was, and angry with her to boot. She should have been the upset one. He had stormed into her flat and basically threatened her. What she should have done was kick him out, but she was curious.

She was always so damn curious.

"And why, pray tell, do you want to strangle me?"

He reached her in several short strides and loomed over her. His chest was heaving in barely controlled rage. His silver-grey eyes, almost slate in colour now, bored into hers.

"Because _you_ sicced the Ministry on me. I thought I was past this Dark wizard bullshit. I even circumvented my way of living to avoid it, and yet Aurors just spent the last two hours sacking my place like I was a common criminal!"

Ginny's brow knitted in confusion and she dropped her arms. "You think _I_ called the Ministry on you? For what?"

"Saying I had Dark Magic Artefacts hidden at my suite?" He leaned in so close that she had to take a step back and put some distance between them. "Putting Potter to work on harassing me because you don't want me as your business partner?"

Ginny shook her head and scoffed. "Why would I do that? Why would I alienate my only investor? And why would I get Harry involved?"

"Why indeed."

Ginny craned her neck to meet his eyes. He looked sincere. He really did think she had reported him. Frankly, she was surprised he wasn't angrier. She was even more shocked that he was actually restraining himself right now. Although by the way his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened, she wasn't sure how long that Malfoy calm was going to last.

Frowning, Ginny suddenly felt rather minuscule standing before him. Here she was, barefoot and dressed in a white off-the-shoulder peasant blouse and navy blue shorts, and he was armoured in an expensive albeit wet suit and was passing judgement over her, accusing her of things she hadn't done. However, she supposed if she were in the same situation, she'd be thinking the worst of him, too.

"Let's sit down and discuss this like rational adults," she offered, and Draco exhaled slowly before begrudgingly relenting.

He took a seat on one of the stools and eyed a bowl of grapes. Ginny motioned to them and informed him that he was more than welcome indulge. Draco did just that and popped a green grape into his mouth, squishing it between his teeth.

"Now you might not believe me, but I have no reason to report you to the Ministry, Draco."

He arched a pale eyebrow at her informal use of his given name but didn't say a word. He was most likely well-aware of her tactic to address him on a first-name basis in order to create an air of familiarity and close association. Unfortunately, Draco _was_ as intelligent as he looked.

"You are a former client of mine and my current business partner. From a purely logical and business standpoint, to sully your name is to sully my own. If you were to get into trouble with the law, it would reflect poorly upon me as well." He infinitesimally inclined his head in agreement.

"Believe what you will, but I no longer judge you for what you did in the past."

Draco slipped another grape into his mouth and smirked sceptically at the redhead. In turn, Ginny leaned forward across the table and swiped a grape from the bowl, popping it into her mouth with a lopsided grin.

"Besides, I'd never associate with a Dark wizard, and I know for certain that you are no longer one."

"Really?" His right eyebrow swept up into his hairline. "So certain, Weasley?"

"Well, I did thoroughly research your recent background when I originally took on your case, if you do recall."

"Ah yes." He nodded slowly and exhaled. The tension slowly seeped from his body, starting with his neck and shoulders, and his expression became contrite. "Well, on my part, I _might_ have overreacted a bit. I haven't eaten since yesterday, or slept, and the raid sort of brought out my surly side."

"Apology accepted." Ginny's mouth widened into a grin and Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably, pushing back on his chair.

"Yes, well, I had better get back. The penthouse is in absolute shambles. It took them almost two hours to tear it apart and it'll probably take me better part of the day to put everything back in order."

"Did you want some breakfast first?" Ginny stood up and made her way over to the refrigerator. "I was about to make a light snack before I took my nap."

"No." He shook his head and offered her a thin but genuine smile. "Thank you, though. I'll make something to eat when I get home." His smile became lascivious. "Rain check, then?"

"For breakfast?"

"Breakfast in bed?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and she rolled her eyes, folding her arms beneath her breasts.

"Don't push your luck, Malfoy."

He chortled. "So how's the kidnapping case coming along?"

"Still no word on a ransom yet." She sighed and let her arms drop to her sides. "Theo checked out the hotel and is currently staying with Mr Kaneshiro until we get any further leads. I had Har—a friend at the Ministry put a trace on all international Portkeys and Side-Along Apparations, as well keep track of all minors performing magic."

Draco nodded. "Sounds like you know what you're doing."

"Of course." She offered him a haughty look, which he only chuckled at before picking up his jacket and carefully slipping it back on.

"Well, you have a good sleep when you get around to it," he said, heading for her door.

"You too."

Ginny accompanied him to the door and opened it wide, leaning casually the panelling. Draco turned to face her, running his fingers through his now wavy platinum hair.

"G'night—uh, g'morning, then, Weasley."

"G'morning, Draco."

He exhaled a short laugh and shook his head, a rare smile lighting up his face. It was boyish and charming and Ginny instantly regretted calling him by his given name. It was too damn early in the morning to be besotted by a damn Malfoy—not that she was besotted.

And with that smile still lingering on his lips, Draco Malfoy inclined his head and casually strolled out of Ginny's flat.

**.**

**.**

**.**

DRACO STEPPED OUTSIDE and lifted his damp collar to the wind. The rain was a slow drizzle now, little more than a mist. He stood outside Ginny's tower block and glanced eastwards, watching the sun rise peak out over the horizon of the city. He would have to forgo the meal and nap he had originally intended to take earlier. There was just no time. He'd just have to settle for a hot shower before putting his home back into some semblance of order.

He sighed miserably and shrugged.

Well, at least it was no longer pouring rain.

Draco was about to find a deserted alleyway to Disapparate from when he spotted a familiar-looking woman approaching Ginny's tower block. She was Asian in descent, with beautiful porcelain-like skin. Her raven-black hair was fashioned in a kimono-style updo and she wore a finely woven silk drape dress, dark burgundy in colour with black heels. She held up a large black umbrella, protecting herself from the misty rain.

Draco couldn't help but notice the way she carried herself like a noblewoman, with a calm authority and sureness of stride. She reminded him a little of his mother when she was younger. However, instead of sporting a stern and superior expression, this woman's face was almost glowing. The moment her eyes met Draco's inquisitive grey, though, her shining aura faded like a guttering candle flame.

"Kaneshiro Urara?"

Startled, the woman's shoulders twitched in recognition. She directed a cagey look his way before turning around and walking in the opposite direction towards a large building. She did not run from Draco, but she was certainly walking fast. When he called her name again and began following her, her pace quickened.

The woman disappeared around the side of a building and Draco took off in hot pursuit, positive she was Mr Kaneshiro's missing wife. As he rounded the corner, a fist swung out and struck him in the face. Or at least he thought it was a fist. It could have very well have been a foot moving too fast for him to track with his eyes.

Draco staggered backwards. He had not expected a physical attack (or an attack of any kind, really), so he hadn't brought his hands up in time to properly block the blow. Head ringing, his world blurred for a moment and he struggled to throw off the stunning effects of the blow.

He silently cursed himself for his slow reflexes. He rarely got into magical duels let alone fist-fights. And why the hell was this woman punching (or kicking) him to begin with?

Once his vision cleared, Draco saw that it wasn't the woman who had struck him but a short, well-built Asian man. He looked to be in his early to mid-twenties and was built like a slender brick wall. Not wasting any time with exchanging pleasantries, Draco swiftly withdrew his wand from its holster, but the short man's foot suddenly kicked up and knocked the wand from Draco's hand.

Before Draco could even react, the man spun around and his other foot came up, this time aiming for Draco's head. Narrowly avoiding the blow, Draco recoiled, side-stepped and threw out a few non-verbal stuns. The man easily dodged the stuns and dropped a smoke bomb, disappearing from sight.

Coughing, Draco waved his hand in front of his face to disperse the smoke. A moment later when the air finally cleared, he saw that both the man and woman were gone.

That certainly was the most dramatic exit he had ever witnessed.

"Malfoy!"

Draco turned. Tears had welled in his eyes from the smoke, but he managed to spot red hair and the outline of Ginny running towards him. She was wearing nothing on her feet but a flimsy pair of flip flops.

"Malfoy, are you all right?"

Her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, inspecting his face for extensive injuries. He took her hands in his and brought them down to his chest before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm all right. My head's just buzzing."

"What happened? I looked out the window and saw you running. You don't run!"

Draco glared at her for a moment and then let go of her hands to wipe the involuntary tears from his eyes. "I saw Urara Kaneshiro."

"Urara? Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I remember her from the picture Takeshi gave us. It was her all right, but she was alone. She didn't have the girls with her." He tenderly palmed his face with a wince. His cheek below his left eye felt swollen and bruised. "Well, I thought she was alone until this short Asian bloke came round the corner and kicked me upside the head."

"Why didn't you fight him?"

"Fight him? Look, normally when you fight a bloke, he raises his fists in gesture that he's prepared to go. This guy started stretching his legs. His _legs_, Weasley! I'm not going to mess with a bloke who can kick my head clean off my shoulders."

Ginny bit the inside of her lip to stop from laughing. "I meant magic, Malfoy. Why didn't you duel him?"

"Oh." Draco's brow creased into a frown. "Well, I had tried but he had disarmed me before I knew what's what. Plus, he managed to dodge my non-verbal spells. I think he might have been a wizard."

Ginny did a quick non-verbal spell to heal the bruise on his cheek. "How do you figure?"

"Well, even though he _physically_ fought me, he easily avoided my stuns and smoke-bombed away like a bloody ninja."

"Doesn't that just make him a ninja?"

"That's racial stereotyping."

Ginny glowered at the blond and placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, that's rich coming from you." When Draco merely jeered in response, she rolled her eyes. "So what about Urara, then?"

"She'd already Disapparated or Portkey'd away by the time my vision cleared from the surprise kick to the face."

This time Ginny couldn't help but snicker at the mental image of Draco getting kicked in the face, earning a death-glare from the blond.

"But you know, maybe it was someone else."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "They could've been tourists or just some random karate fighting duo." She sniggered at the concept, but Draco just barrelled on, "I mean, what's the likelihood of the exact person we're looking for hanging around _your_ neighbourhood?"

"It is quite the coincidence."

"Indeed."

Draco went to retrieve his wand while Ginny stood still underneath the light drizzle, pondering, deducing. Her white blouse had started to turn translucent and Draco couldn't help but notice how the outlines of her nipples were beginning to protrude through. Soon he'd be able to see the colour of them, if he didn't quickly look away.

"So it was just Urara and some stranger?" Ginny mused aloud, oblivious to Draco's current line of sight. "Was he her kidnapper? And if so, where are the children? What kind of kidnapper are we dealing with?"

Draco quickly averted his gaze from Ginny's chest and shrugged. "I dunno, but I think I might have to invest in a cape like Theo. And maybe some throwing knives."

He began to pantomime throwing knives and Ginny rolled her eyes heavenwards.

"You're an idiot."

"An idiot who's got further along on this case than you have."

"How do you figure?" Ginny's hands went to her hips. "Does getting kicked in the face put you one up? If anything, it slows you down in the race, old bean."

"Yes, well . . ." Draco holstered his wand and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He was too tired and in too much pain to continue their usual discourse. "I'm off."

And before Ginny could even retort, Draco had already Disapparated.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	9. Strange Bedfellows

GINNY NODDED HELLO to Harry's secretary, Mrs Lynch, before gliding into his office unannounced. Her bespectacled ex was hunched over his desk, poring over numerous dossiers and sipping tea like it was the only thing keeping him sane (which it most likely was). Harry was already at work when most people had yet to wake up and start their day. Or, if they were anything like Ginny, they hadn't slept and their day had yet to end.

"Harry."

"Ginny!" He looked up at the redhead and grinned, his spectacles sliding down the bridge of his nose. "Back so soon? I'm beginning to think you've missed me."

"Wishful thinking on your part." She smirked and took off her gloves and jacket, draping the latter over the back of the chair before taking the seat across from him. "So what's the word?"

Harry closed the folder he was perusing and pushed up his spectacles. "Nothing, I'm afraid. No hit on underage magic or unauthorised Portkeys." He held up three fingers. "Only three Side-Along Apparitions, but none of them fit the description you gave me."

Ginny sighed. "Bugger."

"Big case?"

"International."

"I figured." Harry leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers. "Need any help?"

"No, I've got my team on it."

"Malfoy's considered part of the team now, huh?" He raised a sceptical eyebrow, and for a half a second Ginny squirmed under his scrutiny before casually shrugging it off.

"Oh, so you've heard about that."

"I also heard about the half a million pound bid," he said dryly, and Ginny sniffed, fiddling with her gloves.

"It was for charity."

He leaned forward. "You don't have that kind of quid, Ginny."

"To be fair, Harry, since you and I broke it off, you don't know what sort of rich Sugar Daddy I've been sponging off."

He laughed and sat back in his chair. "True, but I don't think your _Sugar Daddy_ would appreciate you spending his money on a date with Malfoy."

"Speaking of Malfoy," Ginny said, seamlessly changing the topic, "I heard his flat was raided early this morning."

Harry's brow furrowed. "How did you find out about that?"

"I have my sources." She feathered her fingers across the baby fine hairs on her temple before meeting his gaze. "So why the raid?"

Harry sighed. "Normally, we don't raid his place in the city, unlike Malfoy Manor. Malfoy's flat is warded against using magic, so there's really little point searching for concealed Dark Magic Artefacts there. But last night we received an anonymous tip and we had to follow up on it."

"Anonymous?" Ginny's lips quirked at the corners. "You didn't think it could possibly have been one of his business rivals?"

Harry leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest. Now it was his turn to look doubtful. "Ginny, why do you even care?"

"He's my new investor, Harry. Your raids reflect poorly upon him, which in turn reflect poorly on me." She sniffed a bit too haughtily and shook her head, briefly avoiding eye contact. "Besides, he's not housing any Dark items."

"And how would you know for certain?"

"Because _I_ actually have reliable sources."

"What are you saying, Gin?"

Brown eyes met green. "I'm saying I want you to ease up on the raids, Harry. Check your sources before you round up the cavalry, yeah?" She stood up, noted the peculiar look Harry was giving her, and frowned. "What?"

He shook his head, almost baffled. "I just never thought I'd see the day when _you'd_ be defending Malfoy."

"I'm defending _myself_," she clarified, and Harry peered over the rim of his spectacles, studying her intently for a moment before relenting.

"You really want this, for us to leave Malfoy alone?"

"Consider it a personal favour."

He sighed, shrugging helplessly. "All right, then. But if we do get a credible tip, I won't show any leniency."

"That's fine." She smiled. "I wouldn't expect you to shirk your duties."

Harry chortled softly and shook his head. In a few short seconds, Ginny had her jacket and gloves back on and was already heading for the door.

"Well, I'm off. Do contact me if you hear anything on the Portkey and Apparition fronts."

Harry gave mock salute. "Will do, boss."

Ginny rolled her eyes and swiftly exited Harry's office. Mrs Lynch smiled at the redhead and bid her a good day and Ginny did the same. She then decided that instead of immediately Apparating to her office, she'd pay her father a surprise visit. Along with Harry and Minister Shacklebolt, Arthur Weasley was one of the few Ministry employees who arrived to work so early in the morning.

On her way upstairs to the second level, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ginny abruptly came across a couple having a heated row in the stairwell. The woman, a pretty brunette, was practically shrieking at a rather beefing-looking wizard, who only shrank in the young witch's presence. Mumbling an apology, Ginny quickly retreated and made haste to the lift instead. Trust the one time she decided to get a workout by taking the stairs and some couple decided it was the best place to have an argument.

The familiar ding of the lift reaching her floor startled her for a moment and she stepped back, waiting for the doors to open. Once they did, Ginny stepped inside and pressed for the second floor. She wobbled slightly as the lift took off like a rocket and she let out a tired sigh.

She hadn't bothered to take a nap after Malfoy had left her flat and she was completely knackered. A brief visit with her father would brighten her spirits, but she still had a long day ahead. And it was only just getting started.

**.**

**.**

**.**

DRACO SAT IN his chair with his feet up on the desk. He was just drifting off towards sleep when a light knock on the door caused him to sit up and take the blotter, a few folders and a lamp with him in the process.

The blond quietly swore to himself while the crash galvanised the person on the other side of the door into action. Predictably, the door burst open, followed by a gasp, and a woman came rushing into his office uninvited.

"Sir, are you hurt?" asked a panicked Yvonne, who began picking up the scattered folders and papers. "Is everything all right?"

Draco was far from all right. He was starving, exhausted and completely knackered. Instead of eating or having a nap when he got back from Ginny's flat, he had ended up spending the next couple of hours cleaning the mess the Aurors had made of his penthouse. He had barely put a dint in the clean-up effort before he had to go back into work. He had been hoping to at least catch a fifteen minute catnap in the office before anyone came sniffing around for him, but obviously that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm fine," Draco huffed, picking the blotter off the floor and placing it back down on the desk. "I was just redecorating." He pointed to the broken Tiffany lamp. "I don't fancy this lamp anymore. Bring me a new one."

"Right away, sir." Yvonne immediately set down the folders and picked up the lamp, heading for the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob and glanced over her shoulder at him. "Oh, Mr Malfoy, I came in here to ask when you wanted that vacation to Dubai booked."

Draco waved his hand dismissively, sorting his papers. "I'm not sure yet. I'll have to discuss it with Weasley first." He then looked up, his mouth pursing into a frown. "Wait, how did you know about that?"

"The auction results of the fundraiser were in the papers." Yvonne smiled flirtatiously but Draco continued to frown, glancing back down at his papers.

"I see."

"By Weasley you don't mean _Ginny_ Weasley, do you?" she asked, turning round to face him completely. "Didn't you just recently acquire her firm?"

"No, I'm investing in it."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Draco glanced up once again, his expression blank. "I don't mean to question your business acumen, but getting into bed with a Weasley can't bode well for a Malfoy. The Weasleys are basically the figurehead for Harry Potter and the Ministry, and none of them seem very fond of you, sir." Yvonne shook her dark mane with a dramatic sigh. "This Ginny woman was most likely the one who had organised the raid on your penthouse."

Draco exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair, his work entirely forgotten. "Yes, you shouldn't question my business acumen, Ms Bauer."

"I-I'm sorry," Yvonne stuttered, paling as she took a step back. "I spoke out of turn."

"See that you refrain from such actions in the future."

Yvonne was at least wise enough to lower her head demurely and Draco returned to his work. When the brunette quietly excused herself, Draco laid down his quill with a sigh. He swivelled his chair around to face the window and just stared vacantly.

It was going to be a very long day.

**.**

**.**

**.**

WHY?

The question flowed through Ginny's mind constantly, like the blood pumping in her veins. She thought of people and of objects and of ideas, and the question was always within her. _Why_? She meditated on the puzzles of life, the mysteries that surrounded her, and though she could almost always explain the who, the what, the where, the when and the how, it was always the _why_ that brought the pieces of the puzzle together.

Why, for instance, had Mrs Kaneshiro shown up outside Ginny's tower block earlier that morning? Was it merely coincidence? And why had she been accompanied by her kidnapper, if he indeed was her kidnapper? More importantly, why had that man attacked Draco?

These thoughts flashed through Ginny's mind as her team updated her on the Kaneshiro case. Theo was still staying with Mr Kaneshiro, making sure he was safe, but he hadn't come up with anything to suggest that Takeshi's wife, Urara, or their two daughters had met with foul play. Furthermore, there had still been no word on ransom.

Justin had provided Ginny with a bit more concrete information, specifically on Mr Kaneshiro's clan and business rivals and Mrs Kaneshiro's background as a Shinto priestess. While some of Mr Kaneshiro's clan associates and rivals used questionable means to achieve their aims, none seemed quite brazen enough to pull off a kidnapping, especially of a famous Shinto priestess.

It'd be suicide.

Urara's background turned out to be even more interesting. Her family, the Shiraishis, were one of the oldest and most prestigious Shinto priest orders in Japan. Urara's marriage to Takeshi had been arranged and was thought to be beneficial to both families, although there were some who objected to their union, particularly Urara's uncle. Nothing was made public as to why, and short of travelling to Japan and interviewing family members themselves, she would never know. Instead, Ginny would have to speak with Takeshi himself and hope that he would provide her with some insight.

In the end, it was Seamus who had brought Ginny the most significant lead. He had gathered several reports on the numerous sightings of Urara and her daughters in downtown London. This meant that not only were they in the area but that they were relatively safe. But this only further puzzled Ginny.

Why would Urara's kidnappers keep her and the children in London, and why were they walking about in the open? Nothing quite made sense.

"So what now?" Seamus asked, and Ginny glanced down at her watch with a sigh. It was half past six and everyone was understandably knackered.

After her team had briefed her earlier that morning, they had each gone out to scour London for signs of Urara and the children while Theo questioned Takeshi. He had explained that Urara's uncle objected to their union due to some vague prediction, of which Takeshi had no real understanding. One thing he did know was that the elderly man had passed away a year ago and couldn't possibly be involved in the abduction of his own niece. So, after a fruitless canvassing effort, Ginny had ordered everyone back to the office to regroup, with Theo continuing to stay with Mr Kaneshiro.

"You guys get something to eat and rest here," Ginny said, wearily rising to her feet. "I'll make up a few cots in my office and the boardroom."

"Where are you going?" Justin asked, as Ginny grabbed her jacket.

"I'm going to pay Malfoy a visit."

"What for?" Seamus furrowed his brow in confused annoyance and Ginny simply shrugged.

"Malfoy's the only one to have seen Mrs Kaneshiro and her kidnapper. Something about all of this doesn't quite add up, and maybe by picking apart Malfoy's memory we can gather a clue about what's really going on."

Ginny then waved to her team and Apparated home to change. She would find her answers one way or another. After all, a gladiator never gave up.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	10. Not a Date

THIS WASN'T A date, Ginny had repeatedly told herself as she stood in front of her meagre wardrobe. Nothing she owned seemed adequate enough for her to wear. Frowning, she knew the logical step would be to go shopping for something new, but that wasn't appealing either, nor did she have the time.

She scrunched her nose in annoyance. Why did it even matter what she was wearing? She was just going to visit Draco and check out his Pensieve. It wasn't like she needed to wear something that would grab his attention, like a streaker running across a Quidditch field during a World Cup match. And although he had taken partial notice of her in that blue gown she had worn to the gala, Draco wasn't likely to regard her casual wear as nothing more than peasant chic.

Again, why was she even fretting about this?

Forgoing a dress or any sort of formal wear, Ginny quickly threw on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans with heeled ankled leather boots, a white silk camisole and a long dark grey wrap cardigan. More or less satisfied with her hair, which was held up in a high ponytail, she threw on a beige three-quarter length pea coat and grabbed her wand, slipping it into her purse before Apparating just outside of Draco's penthouse.

She hadn't even rung the doorbell when Draco opened the door. He was dressed in form-fitting dark denim jeans and a black t-shirt that seemed painted on. The bastard. His longish blond hair was tousled and he was sporting a little bit of facial hair, champagne in colour, which oddly suited him.

"Long time no see, Weasley." He was leaning against the doorframe with his brawny arms folded across his chest. "Can I help you?"

"I need to pick apart your brain."

His pale eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "Excuse me?"

"Do you have a Pensieve?" She managed to push past him, not bothering to wait for an invite, and spun around to face him. "I need to examine your memory of the attack early this morning, when you spotted Urara Kaneshiro."

"Come right in," he said dryly, dropping his arms and closing the door behind them with a sigh. "Yes, I have a Pensieve and, yes, you may examine my memory, but do you mind if I have dinner first?"

Draco pointed around the stairs in the direction of the kitchen and Ginny paused, sniffing the air. She could smell garlic and dill and chicken and other savoury scents that tickled her nose. Hungry herself, she was practically salivating at the thought let alone the smell of food. She still had yet to eat a proper meal today. A cup of non-fat yoghurt didn't count, not by a long shot.

"Oh, of course." She abruptly turned to leave. "I'll come back later."

"Why? I can make more."

Ginny spun back around. "Make more what?"

"Food?" He shrugged lazily. "It's something you eat. Mainly for survival, or so I hear."

"Yes, I understand that."

"Do you?" Draco reached her in several easy strides and helped take off her coat. "Then you do understand that I have just invited you to join me for dinner, unless you've already eaten."

"N-no, I haven't." Dumbstruck, she watched him hang her coat on the stand. "T-thank you."

Draco merely nodded his welcome and headed towards the kitchen with Ginny in tow. He had bacon, mushrooms and chicken all slowly sautéing on the stove and a pot of noodles simmering. He motioned for her to take a seat at one of the islands while he continued the chopping that she had just recently interrupted. She watched as he cut up avocado and chives before mincing the garlic, dill and basil.

A few minutes later he told her to take a seat in the formal dining room while he strained the fettuccine and began dressing the dinner plates with noodles, meat, vegetables and toppings, as well as adding homemade Alfredo sauce, ground pepper and fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano. Ginny was practically drooling by the time he set the dish in front of her.

"Would you like some wine? I have a simple Chardonnay." Draco raised a pale eyebrow suggestively. "Or Barolo, if you're feeling adventurous."

Ginny smiled. "Barolo, please."

"Red for the redhead it is, then."

Draco walked back into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red wine off the island. Producing two wine glasses, he set one down in front of his plate and the other in front of hers and began pouring. Ginny took a tentative sip and nodded her approval. Draco then sat down and looked as though he was about to give her an impromptu lesson on dining etiquette but thought better of it.

Ginny wasn't a complete Neanderthal when it came to table manners. She knew not to put her elbows on the table or to slurp any liquids. She knew the difference between a salad fork and a regular fork, a soup spoon and a dessert spoon and an after-dinner tea spoon. She had _some_ working knowledge on how to behave herself at the dinner table. For instance, feet were made for walking and not to be used as a replacement for eating utensils.

She had this.

"Mmm," she moaned in pleasure after the first bite. "Did you honestly cook this yourself?"

"No, what you saw—me slaving over the stove—was just an illusion." Draco took a sip of his wine and motioned to his plate. "This is the take-away I ordered just before you arrived."

"Smartarse." Ginny grinned and raised her fork. "This is good."

"Of course it is." Draco sniffed. "_I_ made it."

"I didn't even know you could cook."

Draco took another slow sip of his wine, his eyes following Ginny in the chandelier-light. "I imagine there are many things about me you don't know, Weasley."

Vaguely aware that she was blushing, Ginny swallowed hard and looked down at her plate. A noodle had lodged uncomfortably in her throat and she took a great sip of her wine to help send the pasta down her oesophagus. She took another sip just for the hell of it.

Was Draco Malfoy flirting with her?

Trying to think nothing more of it, Ginny resumed her meal in silence, occasionally glancing out the large window to take in the beautiful view of the city. Once finished her food, Ginny offered to wash the dishes while Draco dried. It was a domestic and oddly comforting routine, and Ginny couldn't wait for them to start insulting one another again because then she'd probably feel less confused and panicked as she felt right in this moment.

Once everything was cleaned and cleared away, Draco brought out his Pensieve bowl from upstairs and led Ginny outside to the adjacent pool, where limited magic was permitted. He set the stone basin down on one of the glass and iron-wrought patio tables and retrieved a crystal phial from his trouser pocket—the stored memory of that previous morning.

"You already extracted the memory?"

Draco nodded and uncorked the bottle, pouring the silvery gas-like liquid into the stone basin. "I'm not just another pretty face."

Ginny rolled her eyes but smiled, waiting for permission before she dipped her head inside. Draco stepped aside and nodded his consent and Ginny approached the basin. She braced her hands on either side of the bowl and drew in a deep breath before closing her eyes and taking the plunge.

Once her face made contact with the cool cloud-like vapour, Ginny was seized by an unnerving sensation of vertigo. It felt as though she was free-falling, tumbling down into the well of Draco's memory. Weightless, she eventually righted herself on her feet, only to see Draco coming out of her building. He looked as though he was searching for a deserted spot to Disapparate from, and that's when Ginny saw the woman.

She was exactly as described, exactly as seen in the picture Mr Kaneshiro had given them, so there was little doubt in her mind that this wasn't anyone but Urara Kaneshiro. But there were a few things about the initial sighting that Draco hadn't expressively pointed out: one, Urara was looking directly at Ginny's tower block (at her window, in fact) and, two, she seemed to be smiling. Not just smiling, but she looked relieved somehow.

What kidnapped victim smiled? And where were her children?

"Kaneshiro Urara?"

Urara was visibly startled, meeting Draco's eyes for a brief second before turning away. Ginny, who was viewing the scene as a third party, ran after Urara to see where she went. When Draco called again, Urara's pace quickened. Just before she rounded the corner of an adjacent building, Ginny saw the former priestess motion to someone before disappearing entirely.

Ginny then saw the profile of a short Asian man get into position near the wall, and that was when Draco rounded the corner and got punched in the face. Punched, not kicked. She'd have to tell him that later. So while Draco reeled and tried not to get his arse summarily handed to him, Ginny studied the Asian man who was obviously with Urara. There was something slightly familiar about him, though she couldn't say what.

When Draco was distracted, the man glanced over the blond's shoulder. He was watching Ginny running out from the building towards Draco. Grunting in annoyance, the attacker threw a smoke bomb and disappeared, much like Urara had.

Was he a wizard, too? Or was he a priest?

Whatever he was, he wasn't a simple Muggle.

When the smoke cleared, the memory ended and Ginny found herself back on solid ground next to Draco's rooftop pool.

"Well, that was certainly Urara," she said, taking in a deep breath as she reoriented herself. "But what was she doing in my neighbourhood? I don't think it was a coincidence."

"Neither do I." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "None of this makes much sense."

The two stared at each other in silence for a moment before Draco rummaged in his pocket for the empty crystal phial. Restoring his memory to the bottle, he pocketed it and gathered the Pensieve to put it away upstairs in his room.

Ginny followed him back inside, locking the door to the pool, and sat herself on one of the stools in his kitchen and waited. After a minute, Draco returned, retrieving the bottle of Barolo from the dining room. He joined Ginny in the kitchen and poured them both another glass.

"So, have you got any theories?"

Ginny took a sip and nodded. "Several."

"Care to share?"

"Not yet." She smirked, swirling the liquid contents in the crystal glass. "They're still percolating."

"What if I ply you with more wine?"

She shrugged and held out her glass. "Couldn't hurt."

A bottle and a half later and the conversation flowed like the wine. The two chatted animatedly about anything and everything, from Quidditch to Muggle literature and even bad dates. They argued a few points on politics and business, but mainly they laughed and tried outwitting one another.

As Ginny became increasingly inebriated, the more comfortable she felt around Draco and the more enticing he became, which in turn just made it all the more unsettling.

"Draco Malfoy, what has gotten into you?"

"Pardon me?"

"You—" she pointed her wine glass at him "—you're so nice."

"Nice?" He raised an eyebrow in scepticism and she nodded emphatically.

"Making me dinner—"

"Technically I was making myself dinner and just added more pasta to the pot when you barged in."

"Treating me to delicious wine." Ginny raised her glass and the red liquid threatened to slosh over top the rim, causing the compulsively neat Draco to wince.

"Perhaps I've treated you a bit too much of that delicious wine," he said, making a hasty grab for the stemware, which she surprisingly pulled out of his reach.

"Allowing me to search your memories, letting me inside." She dramatically clutched at her heart on the latter point and Draco dropped his hand, glancing about the kitchen, perplexed.

"Inside? Inside where?"

Ginny smiled and pointed her glass at him again. "You're just being nicer than—well, you're being nice, which is an oddity in itself. Why, Malfoy? Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm just knackered," he said with a non-committal shrug. "Most people are grumpy when they're tired. I'm nice."

"Nice," Ginny repeated with a goofy grin, and Draco shook his head, nicking the wine glass from the clearly inebriated redhead.

"You're sloshed," he accused, and Ginny pointed a finger at his chest this time.

"You're a git."

He quirked an eyebrow and relented with a nod. "That I am, Weasley. That I am."

Draco got up and retrieved two crystal tumblers from one of the cabinets. He proceeded to fill the glasses with ice and water and then sat back down at the kitchen table, sliding one of the glasses over to Ginny.

"Here, drink some of this. You're a lightweight. I thought you peasant stock were made of stern stuff."

Ginny glared at him for the insult but took the water. She didn't drink often and when she did it really only took one glass to get her blotto. It was a touch embarrassing, really, being a Weasley and all. After a few more sips of water, her head began to clear and she noted that while Draco had a glass of water, he was still drinking his wine. His alabaster cheeks had a rosy tint to them that was rather becoming.

"Ugh, I'm so full," she moaned, finally starting to feel the effects of all those carbohydrates, though she was happily rubbing her stomach. "But it was so worth the bloated belly."

Draco raised his glass in cheers. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Where did you learn to cook, anyway? And without magic to boot."

"I watch cooking programmes on the telly."

"You liar!"

"No, really."

"You cook, own a telly and don't use magic in your own home?" she listed with her fingers. "You're like a Muggle."

"Tell anyone that and I'll have to kill you."

Ginny snorted at Draco's semi-serious expression and then crossed her fingers over her heart and sealed her lips. "Not a word. But I have to ask—is this lack of magic in your own home your way of keeping the Ministry from raiding?"

"It's the biggest reason, yes." He took a slow sip of his wine. "But I have to admit that I've gotten used to it. It's not like I'm at home much anyway."

Ginny watched as Draco cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Well, you needn't worry about Aurors raiding your suite," she said. "At least not for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"I told Harry to back off unless he had a credible tip."

Draco set down his glass and stared at her for a moment. Now it was Ginny's turn to shift uncomfortably in her seat. But if she was expecting a thank-you from the blond, she'd be sadly mistaken.

"Do you know who reported me?" he asked, and she traced her lower lip with her teeth before shaking her head.

"No, it was anonymous. No one at the Ministry seems to know. If you like, I can try to find out for you." When Draco's face softened to the point where it looked as though he was about to smile, Ginny frowned and leaned back in her chair. "What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, looking amused. "It's just that we make strange bedfellows, you and I."

"Bedfellows, huh?" She snorted into her drink and one of the ice cubes clinked against her front teeth. "I don't jump into the bed of my co-workers, literally or figuratively."

"What about partners or clients?"

"Nope," she answered, popping the P. "Nor do I date friends."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we're not friends." He smirked and stood up, gathering his wine glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. "Let's take this discussion into the living room, shall we?"

A little surprised at the candid invite, Ginny blinked twice before following Draco into the living room. It was a modern-looking room, not quite as posh and old-fashioned as his parlour. This was the place where he obviously kept his Muggle toys, such as a large plasma TV, an X-Box, a PlayStation3 and some crazy surround-sound entertainment system that probably cost more than her first flat.

Wasn't home much, her arse.

But what was even more puzzling than the countless Muggle technologies and his zest for Muggle cooking was that Draco was actually treating her like she was a guest he _wanted_ to entertain in his home. It was like he sincerely enjoyed her company. The man she had hated in school had become a puzzle to her now, always changing, and dammit if she didn't enjoy sussing out puzzles.

"I'm surprised you allowed me to stay," Ginny admitted, setting her water down on a coaster. "I would have thought you had plans."

"My original intent was to get properly sloshed after dinner, maybe hit a pub and lure some half-pissed leggy blonde back to my place or, better yet, a hotel for a shag." He sat down on the settee and turned his head, glancing up at Ginny with a grin. "But then I would have missed the opportunity to dine with you."

"Ah Malfoy, you always say such romantic things." She batted her eyelashes coquettishly and then placed her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn.

Draco looked at her uncertainly for a minute before turning on the television. "Did you want to stay and watch something on the telly, a film perhaps?"

"With you?"

"No, with the invisible man." He rolled his eyes. "Of course with me, unless you're too ti—"

In the next second Ginny had bounced on his expensive not-to-be-bounced-on settee and curled up beside him. Making herself right at home, she grabbed the throw blanket off the back and draped it across her legs. She then snatched the remote from his hand and commenced channel-surfing at her leisure.

"Since you made me dinner, I suppose the least I can do is watch some boring old film with you."

"Your generosity knows no bounds," he drawled, glancing down at her subconsciously snuggling into his side for warmth. So maybe she was still a little drunk. "You know it's all right to admit that you like spending time with me, Weasley."

Ginny grunted in response, still flicking through channels. "You could admit the same thing, Malfoy."

"What man wouldn't enjoy spending time with a beautiful woman?"

Ginny froze mid-click and tried to stall the blush blossoming on her cheeks. A few agonising heartbeats later she thankfully managed to do just that.

Was Draco actually being serious or was he just trying to take the piss? How drunk was he?

A moment later, after no snide comments were made to negate his earlier compliment, Ginny cleared her throat and turned towards him. "Before we pick something to watch, I could really use some popcorn. Would you be a darling and make some for me?"

Draco looked at Ginny askance. "Do I look like a house-elf to you?"

"No, you look like a Muggle-lover. And if you want your shameful secret kept, you had better go pop me some popcorn."

Draco nearly catapulted off the settee at the mention of 'Muggle-lover' and 'secret'. He stared at Ginny accusatory, but her gaze was elsewhere focussed on the television. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips and he glowered.

"You pick something to watch and I'll be back with your order, your highness. I'm guessing you want your drink topped off, too?"

Ginny smiled at him sweetly. "If it's not too much of a bother."

Draco snorted and grabbed her glass of water before quickly vacated the room. With him gone, Ginny allowed a smile to overtake her lips. Spending time with Draco wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it'd be. In fact, it was sort of fun.

**.**

**.**

**.**

SOMETHING SHIFTED BESIDE Draco, nudging against him, and his eyes sprang open.

Stiff, he leaned back on the settee with a soft groan and peered past his shoulder, glancing down. There was a definite lump beside him, buried beneath a throw blanket that occasionally moved. As he looked around, he realised that he had fallen asleep with Ginny on the settee in his living room.

Clearing his throat, Draco sat up straight and tentatively pulled the blanket off Ginny. Her head was resting against his thigh and her face was turned up at him, her eyes closed and her lips curved in a faint smile. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping or if that's how her face naturally appeared in the morning. One strap of her camisole had fallen off her small freckled shoulder and revealed more of her breast to his greedy eyes. An instant war broke out as the gentleman in him wanted to pull her strap back up and the pervert in him wanted to pull it down just a little bit further to see some nipple action.

Draco shook his head. Having this girl lying beside him shouldn't have made him consider taking liberties with her that he otherwise wouldn't have. Yet why wouldn't he? It certainly wasn't because he had turned over any new leaves in his life, that was for sure. He was still the arrogant, bigoted tosspot he always had been, except perhaps a bit mellower in his years. His standards were still remarkably high, and yet . . .

He leaned his head back and admired Ginny for a brief second before slowly lifting off the settee and turning off the telly. Without waking her, Draco went up to his room to take a quick shower and dress. Once done, he came down the stairs and was about to head into the living room to wake up Ginny when his rarely used doorbell rang, causing him to make a detour.

In several easy strides he made his way to the foyer, rolling up his sleeves as he walked. He raked his fingers through his damp hair and threw the door open, grimacing at the person standing on the other side.

"Good morning, Mr Malfoy." Yvonne Bauer beamed at the blond and then strolled inside the premises as if she had been granted an invitation.

Whatever possible good mood Draco had been in quickly dissolved into irritation.

"Can I help you, Ms Bauer?"

The girl frowned at Draco's professional greeting but quickly recovered, producing a folder from her satchel. "I came to personally deliver the contract Minister Bourdieu sent to the office late last night."

Draco took the proffered booklet and exhaled sharply, his hand still resting on the door. "Thank you, but I could have picked this up this morning when I arrived at work."

"Oh, but your meeting with the Minister is scheduled in half an hour. I thought you'd want to look over the contract first. I would have delivered it to you last night, but you're impossible to reach since you don't have the Floo system connected to your flat."

Draco simply gritted his teeth and glared while Yvonne prattled on. However, the young woman soon grew distracted by the petite redhead with bedhead and a wrinkled camisole strolling out of Draco's living room.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Yvonne. "I didn't know you had company."

Draco turned to see Ginny standing close to the stairs. She had come to an abrupt halt when she noticed the two of them in the foyer. Then she obviously became consciously aware of the fact that she looked like she had just woken up in Draco Malfoy's flat.

"Sorry, was I interrupting something?" Ginny asked, and Draco shook his head, opening the door even wider. "No, Ms Bauer was just on her way out."

The young woman ignored Draco's obvious signal for her to leave and instead smiled brightly. She took a confident step towards Ginny and held out her hand. "I don't believe we've been formerly introduced. I'm Yvonne Bauer, Mr Malfoy's _personal_ assistant."

"Temporary assistant," Draco corrected, and Yvonne's smile tightened before she turned her attention back to Ginny, who had yet to take her proffered hand.

"And you are?"

"She's unimportant," Draco quickly intervened, and Ginny glared up at him.

The corners of Yvonne's mouth lifted into a sceptical smirk but she said nothing, quickly lowering her hand and resuming her demure posture. Ginny, on the other hand, had her brow knit tightly in angry confusion. After a moment, she lowered her shoulders and shook her head with a resigned sigh.

"Okay, whatever." Ginny lazily hooked her thumb behind her. "I'm going to take my unimportant arse back into the living room. You two have fun with your discussion or whatever it was you were doing."

Draco watched Ginny retreat and growled lowly in his throat before turning back to Yvonne with a clenched jaw. "Thank you for this," he managed to grind out, lifting the folder and motioning to the door. "I will see you at work shortly."

Yvonne bowed her head and quietly retreated outside. Draco closed the door, not bothering to watch the girl Disapparate, and set the folder down on the credenza. He palmed his face with a sigh and headed back into the living room where Ginny was hastily throwing on her cardigan and fixing her hair.

"Would you like some breakfast?" he offered, and she shook her head.

"No, I should get home and have a shower."

She gathered her purse and walked past him towards the hallway. He grabbed her by the arm to stop her and she glanced down at his hand and then up into his eyes. He quickly let go, swallowing thickly before clearing his throat.

"See you later, then?"

Ginny smiled thinly before curtly nodding. "Drop by the office whenever you like." She grabbed her coat off the stand and draped it over her arm. "Although, if you'd like something to eat, make sure you show up before Theo does."

Draco said nothing and watched her walk out the door. He stared at the closed door for a moment or two and then let out a weary sigh, promptly returning to the living room. He picked up the throw blanket and shook it out before folding it properly and draping it over the back. Not yet satisfied with the condition of his settee, he went about fixing the cushions when he felt a solid object lodged down the side.

Fishing a hand down the sides, Draco pulled out Ginny's mobile phone. It must have fallen out of her pocket or her purse. Deciding to forgo his own breakfast, Draco slipped the phone into his pocket and ran up the stairs to retrieve his wand and jacket.

He'd deliver the phone to her personally.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	11. Betrayal Is a Two-Way Street

VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN wasn't neither macho nor sexy, but some foolish men thought it was the fastest and easiest way to get their point across. Unfortunately when a man decided his opponent was simply a feeble woman whose only line of defence was a piercing scream, he had fallen into a trap. Chiefly so when that woman happened to be a witch who could utter spells powerful enough to level a city block if she were so inclined.

Ginny was so inclined to lay waste to all of downtown London when she arrived home to find a stranger in her flat, rummaging through her things. It was the same man she had seen in Draco's memory—the one who had attacked him.

Once the interloper caught sight of Ginny, he brought his hands down to his sides and turned slowly. He said something in Japanese (or so Ginny assumed) and took a careful step towards her. She instinctively retrieved her wand from her purse and aimed a non-verbal stun at the intruder, aiming just past his shoulder like a warning shot.

"Lie down on the ground with your hands on top of your head," she ordered slowly. "Or I guarantee the next spell _won't_ miss."

The man's black eyes narrowed, considering his options. He could do what she asked, if he indeed understood her, refuse her outright, which would likely result in a dangerous duel to determine who would prevail, or he could feign acceptance and simply do as he wished at the opportune moment. He chose the second option and lunged at the redhead.

Ginny, unlike most witches, didn't bother to scream or bargain or ask any questions. Instead, she threw herself into the fight. But while she fought with wand and spell, her adversary lashed out with brutal spinning kicks and expert skill. She wasn't sure how long she'd last against him without having to throw out some more devastating spells and making sure they actually hit their target.

Initially annoyed, Ginny couldn't help but admire her opponent's skills and uncanny ability to avoid her stuns. And though he was indeed fighting her, his kicks and punches failed to connect. It was then she realised his attacks were defensive rather than offensive. He didn't seem to be attacking her so much as he was trying to scare and drive her off, or perhaps he was just trying to distract her. Whatever the case, he clearly didn't want to harm her and she felt the same way.

"Wait!" Ginny panted, waving her wand at him but not directing any spells. "I don't want to hurt you! Or for you to hurt me!"

But the man, who Ginny was now convinced was some sort of magical ninja, didn't seem to care. Or perhaps he didn't understand what she had said, for he continued to drive her back. Ginny, in a last ditch attempt to stop the fight, crouched low before lunging forward. She aimed a stun at his chest, but her adversary was not unprepared.

The man twisted aside and brought his fist in a parry that not only deflected Ginny's spell but knocked her wand out of her hand. Unarmed, the two stood across from each other and began staring the other down. The tension in the air was thick and Ginny subtly eyed her wand, trying to deduce how she could retrieve it without him striking her first.

As Ginny planned her next move, the Asian man slowly reached inside the fold of his tunic. Bracing herself against an attack, she made ready to dive for her wand. At the same time, a globe of amber-coloured energy suddenly encased her opponent.

"What the—?" She spun around to see Draco standing behind her with his wand raised.

"Need some help, Weasley?"

Ginny was panting slightly, alarmed yet relieved. She couldn't help but grin at the cocksure blond who had just saved her arse. The magical ninja, however, glared menacingly at Draco and then about the sphere, trying to determine a way to break free.

"Is he safe in there?" Ginny asked, retrieving her wand from the floor, and Draco nodded.

"The sphere simply holds him, like an impervious shield. But it will fade in a short while."

"Good, that will give me some time to ward this place against Apparition," she said, flicking her wand in a series of intricate motions. "When the sphere disappears, he won't be able to leave."

Draco briefly observed Ginny's wandwork before approaching the translucent amber-coloured globe. He bent down, coming eye-level with the intruder. "Then you'll have no choice but to answer our questions, hmm?"

The man responded by reciting words Ginny couldn't understand, but Draco obviously could. The blond spun around and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down to the floor and shielding her with his body as a shaft of yellow flames shot outwards in all directions from inside the sphere. Just as suddenly the column of flames vanished.

Their adversary had broken free.

He struck first at Draco, who already had his wand pointed at the assailant, blasting spells. Had the man's foot come down a little harder, the blow might have fractured Draco's skull. Instead it merely jolted him, hard. Briefly disoriented, Draco responded by spinning the other way and bringing up his wand in a slashing motion across his opponent's torso. Meanwhile Ginny had made her way towards the man from the other side in a pincer move.

With Ginny's flat now warded against Apparition, they had him trapped. Although, this meant that they couldn't leave either. Given their current predicament, Draco's magic-free penthouse was starting to look rather appealing right now.

"_Tomare_!"

All three glanced up to see Urara Kaneshiro standing in the doorway of Ginny's flat. She was a slender woman with a commanding presence: a sharp nose, soft brown eyes and long raven-black hair that contrasted beautifully against her porcelain-like skin.

The indefatigable fighting spirit of the mysterious stranger deflated the moment Urara uttered her command. He stood to attention, head slightly bowed, and Draco and Ginny eased up as well. They were too distracted by the elegant woman confidently striding into Ginny's flat to put up much of a fight.

"I am sorry, Weasley-san," Urara said with a slight bow, placing a hand on the Asian man's arm. "He does not speak English."

Ginny holstered her wand with a scowl. "So he just attacks people?"

She was angry and she wanted answers, like why was this woman, who had supposedly been abducted, standing in her home and giving excuses for her kidnapper? She had heard of capture-bonding, but this was ridiculous.

"He thought you were someone who had accosted him last night when we came here to find you," Urara explained, and then the man began conversing rapidly in Japanese, motioning to Ginny. "There was a girl with red hair outside your door. Although, seeing you now, she was much taller than you."

Red hair? Ginny didn't recall another ginger living in her tower block. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and arched an eyebrow in scepticism. "Still, who goes around attacking women?"

"Plus, you attacked _me_ yesterday," Draco added, looking thoroughly annoyed as he held his injured head, "and _I'm_ certainly not a woman!"

Urara glanced in Draco's direction and bowed slightly. "Ah, apologies, Malfoy-san. Shuu-kun believed you were employed by my enemy to find me."

"Your enemy?"

"You work for my husband, Kaneshiro-sama, do you not?"

Ginny's eyes widened considerably in shock. She shared a look with Draco before returning her attention to Urara. "Ah yes, he hired us to find you—you and your daughters. He believed you were kidnapped by a rival clan or business company."

"Of course he would." Urara sighed and then turned to her companion, most likely translating everything she had just told them.

"Who is he exactly?" Draco asked, pointing to the stranger with his free hand. His other was still cradling his head. Ginny would soon have to check and see how badly he was hurt.

"He is my younger cousin, Shuu-kun. He wished to help free me from my marriage." When Draco and Ginny directed another nonplussed expression Urara's way, she clarified, "My uncle, Shuu-kun's father, predicted that my marriage to the Kaneshiro family would . . . not bode well. He believed our union would bring about the demise of the Shiraishi Shinto priesthood."

"And did it?"

Urara slowly nodded. "Since my marriage to Takeshi-san, there have been many deaths in my family, miscarriages and stillborns. There are no heirs now to carry on the name."

Ginny motioned to Shuu. "What about your cousin?"

"He had an accident when he was young. He cannot father children."

"That just leaves your children," Ginny said, and Urara nodded once more.

"Yes, but they are children of the Kaneshiro clan. I was written out of my family's register and put in my husband's. My daughters are Kaneshiro heirs, not Shiraishi." She let out a protracted sigh. "I want to keep my family's name alive, but my husband and his family would never allow it."

Ginny frowned. "Couldn't you divorce your husband?"

"I could, but I would not be given custody of my children. Nor would it be possible for them to take my name. They would be taken away from me."

Ginny palmed her face with a sigh. Though she couldn't entirely understand this woman's plight, she could sympathise. But still, Ginny was now being placed between a rock and a hard place. She was hired by Mr Kaneshiro to find his wife, but Mrs Kaneshiro didn't want to be found. Or did she?

"Do you love your husband, Mrs Kaneshiro?"

Urara smiled thinly. "This is not about love, Weasley-san. I know I must sound cold, but as a wife in the Kaneshiro family I have no voice. I would want my daughters to have the opportunity to become Shinto priestesses and follow in my family's tradition of magic. But that would not be possible with my husband's family.

"In the end, my family's name will die and I can only sit back and watch a thousand years of tradition die with it."

Ginny breathed deeply, casting her gaze to her feet. The room had gone silent again. After a moment Urara whispered something to Shuu, who nodded. Ginny, meanwhile, didn't know what to say. Urara's story was a heartfelt one, but how exactly did this woman expect Ginny to help her, if that was indeed what she wanted?

"So why did you stay here in London?" Ginny asked. "You could have gone anywhere."

"I knew my husband could find me no matter where I went. With your country's deportation and extradition laws, I figured I at least stood a chance here." Urara shrugged elegantly. "Plus, this would be the last place he would ever think to look."

Ginny scratched behind her ear with a sigh before placing her hands on her hips. "Well, why break into my home, then?"

"And _how_?" Draco added grumpily, not to be forgotten.

"I knew you were working for my husband," Urara said. "But I had to make sure that you were who others say you are, someone willing to help someone like me."

Ginny's brow knitted in a frown. "Who others say I am?"

"You are Ginny Weasley, correct? You fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, helped defeat Voldemort?"

"Yes."

"Then you know what it is like to be oppressed by a power greater than your own?"

Ginny swallowed thickly. "Yes."

And then Urara did something Ginny had not expected. She bowed deeply at a forty-five degree angle with her head downcast. Her cousin, Shuu, quickly followed suit.

"Weasley-sama, I greatly apologise for breaking into your home and I apologise for Shuu-kun attacking you and Malfoy-sama. Though he meant neither of you harm, it was a great disrespect, and I apologise. And though I am deeply dishonoured, I beg for your help."

Ginny was gobsmacked by the display, but Draco wasn't so easily impressed or placated.

"Help, with what?" he asked, dropping his hand and turning towards Ginny, who he knew would help Urara.

Sure enough, Ginny nodded her consent. "I will do what I can."

Draco rolled his eyes. "What are you, a family law barrister now?"

"Please, let me know where you are staying so I can get a hold of you," Ginny instructed, as Urara finally lifted her head. "I will arrange a meeting with you and your husband as soon as you are ready, but I would suggest sooner rather than later."

Ginny's gaze lingered on noblewoman, who had tilted her head down in a single, almost imperceptible nod and smile of gratitude that Ginny wasn't even certain she saw.

"Thank you."

Urara motioned for her cousin, Shuu, to follow her out of Ginny's flat, when the redhead called out for them to stop.

"Wait! I have to know: how did you get in? My flat is warded against magical intrusion. How—how did you do it?"

Urara paused at the door. "Our magic, it is different from yours. But in truth, Shuu-kun used—how do you say?—a lock pick."

Draco snorted loudly at this, which only further incited Ginny's ire. So all it took to break into her flat was a lock pick? It figured.

Once Urara and Shuu finally left, Ginny immediately tended to Draco's wounds. Fortunately he only had a small bump and scratch on the back of his head where Shuu had kicked him.

"You're not much of a fighter, are you?" she asked with a tsk, and Draco grimaced.

"I'm more of a bleeder, really. I don't fancy pain much."

"You don't say."

Ginny bit her lip to stop from grinning and tended to Draco's bruises. When she finished healing him, she went about fixing the minor damage done to her home. Though she wasn't nearly as fastidious as Draco, she didn't much tolerate clutter.

"Disappointed?"

Distracted with cleaning, Ginny slowly turned towards Draco. "Hmm? What's that?"

"Don't women want someone who can protect them? You know, shelter them from danger and whatnot?" He shrugged somewhat uncomfortably, stuffing his hands into his pockets and pulling out her mobile phone. "I'm more of a provider than a protector, really."

Ginny took the phone and shook her head. "You came to my rescue, Malfoy. You did good, like a partner should. Plus, I can protect myself—and you too, if need be." She stopped short and suddenly turned pale, realising what she had just said. "N-not that you need protection."

Draco smirked, but it wasn't smug. "Ta, Weasley. It's nice to know that you'll defend my honour, if need be."

"Oh, shut it."

She made to swipe at him but he evaded her attack and grinned. Though he sometimes drove her up the wall, Ginny had to admit that Draco was a reliable sort of bloke. He came through in a pinch and actually managed to save her. Thankfully Shuu wasn't really trying to harm her, so it wasn't like Ginny owed Draco a life-debt. She didn't think she could have suffered the humiliation.

"Well, we had better head back to the office," she said with a sigh, and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"What, and break the news to Mr Kaneshiro that his wife staged her and their daughters' abduction because she wants a divorce?"

"Yes."

Draco made a sour face and rubbed the back of his head. "You don't suppose he kicks like that other bloke, do you?"

"For your sake, let's hope not."

"Wait, what am I even talking about? I can't go with you. I have a meeting with the French Minister in—" he glanced down at his watch "—ten minutes ago. Bollocks! See you later, Weasley!"

Ginny watched Draco dash out her door to Disapparate and she laughed.

Deciding to take a quick shower before heading to the office, she went into her room to get undressed. While peeling off her camisole, she glanced out her bedroom window and looked up at the sky, blinking in the merciless grey light that permeated the clouds above. It was going to rain soon, and hard.

She sighed and glanced down at the practically empty streets below. Explaining all of this to Urara's husband and potentially brokering a divorce with child custody involved wasn't exactly what Ginny had in mind when she first took on this case. But at least she could tell Takeshi that his wife and daughters were safe.

That was something, wasn't it?

**.**

**.**

**.**

"BETRAYAL!" TAKESHI RUMBLED. "She has betrayed me!"

The elder Kaneshiro was livid when he learned that not only had his wife arranged for her own abduction but that she wanted one of their daughters to take on her dying family name. Needless to say, this sort of situation was unprecedented and needed to be handled with care.

"I will not allow it!" he said, slamming his fists down on the table.

"Mr Kaneshiro," Ginny said softly, placing her hand next to his, "if you view your wife and her family as a burden, then she _will_ divorce you."

"I do not care. I want to see my children!" His onyx eyes met hers and she nodded.

"We are arranging that."

While Ginny had wanted the husband and wife to meet as soon as possible, she now understood Urara's hesitancy. Takeshi was a touch volatile, although Ginny could understand why. He had been lied to and his children had been taken from him. He needed to be informed of the situation first and given a brief cooling-off period before husband and wife could be brought together, which was why Urara was secretly waiting in a room on another floor.

"Your wife will not keep your children from you, I promise you that. But you must guarantee the same." Ginny sighed. "Look, Mr Kaneshiro, you can either divorce your wife or you can allow her to sign one of your daughters into the Shiraishi family register. You still have another daughter. You still have an heir."

"_Shirimasen_." Takeshi angrily shook his head. "I do not know."

"I will help you with the transition," Ginny said firmly. "The Kaneshiro clan helping keep the noble Shiraishi name alive _will_ reflect greatly upon you in both the public eye and business circles."

Takeshi didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't have much choice in the matter, not if he wanted everything settled amicably with his wife and save face. After a lengthy discussion and setting a date to arrange a meeting between the spouses and children, Takeshi left Ginny's office, leaving his brother and Millicent to settle with the bill.

Ginny directed them to Lavender, who presented them with an invoice, and then made her way down to the fifth floor where her new library was currently under construction.

The library had been a relatively recent fantasy of hers, to be surrounded by a mountainous collection of books while sipping tea and immersing herself in various literatures. The thought made her smile a little, and as she stepped off the lift, Ginny found herself oddly struck by how much she shared in common with Hermione now. Once Ginny had only cared for Quidditch and sports, yet now she devoured literature and political discourse like a starving woman.

It was interesting how one's tastes could so easily change.

As Ginny manoeuvred her way into the reading room, she found Urara and Padma Patil seated at one of the tables in deep conversation.

"It'll be a bumpy road ahead," Padma said to Urara, "but I know a good family law barrister in Tokyo who will help you, if your husband doesn't keep his word."

"Thank you." Urara bowed to the barrister, and then both she and Padma turned to see Ginny standing in the doorway.

"I was just going over Urara's options," Padma told Ginny.

"Yes, I would like to thank you both," Urara said, bowing to Ginny now. "Thank you for everything."

"We'll get everything sorted out, Urara," Ginny said, wanting to take the woman's hand but refraining. "You won't lose your children."

After Ginny had filled Urara in on the meeting with Takeshi, the noblewoman had left to see her children and prepare herself for the inevitable confrontation with her husband. Once she was gone, Ginny placed a hand on Padma's shoulder and squeezed.

"Thank you, Padma."

"No worries, Ginny. Always glad to help." The ex-Ravenclaw smiled at the redhead. "Quite the interesting case you've got on your hands. I'm still amazed you're able to keep this out of the papers."

Ginny shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, you know me."

"I do." Padma grinned. "And I'll be sending you a bill shortly."

Ginny placed her hands on her hips and feigned an affronted look. "Oh, so what happened to 'always glad to help'? This wasn't pro bono?"

"I think since you're charging both Mr _and_ Mrs Kaneshiro you can afford me."

Ginny laughed. "Go on, get out of here. Don't you have clients to overcharge?"

"No, that would be solicitors, or you." Padma smirked and grabbed her briefcase. "I'll send an invoice to your office this week. Have a good one, Ginny."

"You too, Padma."

With that, Padma left the building to Disapparate and Ginny made the trek back up to her office. Everyone was already waiting for her on the sixth floor. Millicent and Makoto had thanked her and left and her team had all gathered in the boardroom, going over strategies about the meeting between husband and wife in the next few days.

"I'm not really a fan of either solution," said Ginny, referring to both the divorce and signing one of the children into the Shiraishi family register. "The children have absolutely no choice in the matter."

"I'm sure they'd prefer it to their parents getting divorced," Theo said.

Ginny couldn't help but agree. She knew she would be devastated if her parents split up now, even with her being an adult and supposedly mature enough to deal with the emotional turmoil.

"So one of the daughters will take on the mother's surname, yeah?" Seamus asked, and Ginny nodded. "What about when she marries?"

Theo shrugged. "Whoever she marries will likely have to take her name and be put in the Shiraishi register."

"Is that even common?" Justin asked, and Ginny shook her head.

"I don't think so, but the daughter will be considered a Shiraishi _and_ a Kaneshiro, so I'm sure exceptions will be made to be a part of those families."

"All she really has to do is produce a son," Draco said, and everyone abruptly turned to face the blond standing in the doorway.

He must have finished work for the day. Ginny noted that his tie was hanging out of his pocket and the first three buttons of his dress shirt were undone. Even when tired and unkempt, he still looked gorgeous. The bastard.

"Heirship is a nasty business," he added, taking the seat next to Ginny, who tried not to visibly squirm in her seat.

"Good thing you were an only-child, then."

Draco nodded wearily at the redhead and adjusted his cuffs. "Indeed. Any siblings of mine would likely be six feet under by now."

Theo chortled at the black humour and Ginny merely rolled her eyes, but smiled. Then Draco leaned in close, gently nudging her shoulder with his.

"So I assume everything went well on your end?"

"Well enough," she said, lifting her palms. "The rest is up to them."

The room went silent for a moment until Justin cleared his throat, causing everyone to turn in his direction.

"So what do we do now?" He leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "We've solved the kidnapping case, we've been paid. What do we do now?"

Theo slapped his hands on the table and everyone jumped. "We celebrate, obviously."

"Yeah!" Seamus pumped an energetic fist in the air. "Let's get arseholed!"

Ginny briefly met Draco's gaze and shrugged in capitulation.

Let the festivities begin.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	12. Ever the Gentleman

THE PUB WAS bursting with inebriated idiots, and Draco scanned its occupants for one idiot in particular.

Ginny.

Women flitted past, throwing him cross-eyed come hither looks, but Draco wasn't interested. After standing stone still for two minutes he finally spotted Ginny with a pint glass in her hand, making her way back inside the central hub of what he assumed was the makeshift dance floor. She tossed back whatever libation was inside the glass, giggled to Lavender, and then began swaying to the music as men swarmed around her and the blonde.

Shortly after work they had all decided to go out to a pub for a bite to eat and celebrate. It turned out there was a late-night football game on and everyone had got caught up in the excitement, drinking more than they probably should have. It didn't help matters much that most of them were knackered and running on fumes. Getting arseholed was inevitable.

Leaving Ginny and Lavender behind on the dance floor, Draco made his way back to the table and sat next to Theo. Everyone else had dispersed, thankfully leaving Draco relatively alone with his thoughts. Still, he felt tense. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, and he had a strange suspicious it had to do with Ginny.

He nursed a glass of scotch and people-watched with Theo. His taller mate was drinking straight bourbon and occasionally patting at his breast pocket for non-existent fags.

"Theo, how do you do it?"

Theo took a sip of his drink and shrugged. "Wot? How do I look this beautiful? Genetics."

Draco snorted. "No. I mean how can you juggle your own company _and_ work with Weasley? Isn't it exhausting? _I'm_ exhausted."

"I'm not normally this involved in Ginny's cases," Theo said, swirling the bourbon in his glass. "I just stuck around because it was her wish for me to play the peacekeeper."

Draco's brow furrowed. "With me? But we haven't fought."

"Maybe she didn't need a mediator, then," Theo said, shrugging lazily. "Maybe she just needed a wedge, and maybe you needed one, too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a smart lad, Draco." Theo winked and drained the last dregs of his drink. "You'll figure it out."

Theo then set down his empty glass and stood from the table, buttoning up his jacket. As the tall wizard made his way over to the bar to order another drink, Draco sat in his seat and stewed. His gaze alternated between the surface of the sticky table and Ginny shaking her hips on the dance floor.

He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Who did Theo think he was trying to stir these random thoughts in him?

When Theo finally made it back to the table, Draco immediately pounced. "What are you trying to say, Theo, that I like her?" Draco scoffed unconvincingly. "She's a Weasley!"

"And you're a Malfoy." Theo shrugged, taking a healthy sip of his bourbon. "So what?"

Draco motioned back and forth between himself and the redhead on the dance floor. "Our families are mortal enemies. I can't go against hundreds of years of tradition."

"And yet you work with Muggles and live in a flat that's magic-free," Theo quipped, smirking into his drink. When Draco gave him a sour look, Theo lowered his glass with a sigh. "Look, Draco, I'm not telling you to make the _right_ decision. I'm just telling you to _make_ one." He ran his hand over his breast pocket as if in pain. "Life's short, mate."

Words spoken, Theo turned his attention back to his drink and Draco leaned back in his chair, palming his face with a groan. Why was he letting himself get involved in this sort of mess? Why did he even care?

Draco picked up his tumbler of scotch and took a long sip, hissing through his teeth. Things were getting complicated between him and Ginny, and he hated complicated. But at the same time he couldn't avoid the drama. It was like mother's milk to a Malfoy.

He absently fingered his half-empty glass, trying to decide whether to order another drink or leave the pub now, slinking out like a one-night stander doing the walk of shame home. But before he could make a decision, Theo leaned over and pointed his glass in the direction of the dance floor.

Draco followed his aim and saw Ginny sandwiched between two beefy-looking blokes. They looked like Quidditch or rugby players, bad news either way. The redhead could barely stand and didn't seem to care that she was currently being pressed flat like a pancake.

"She's legless," Theo said, pointing to Draco this time. "You'd better pull her out of there."

"What? Me? Why me?"

Theo lazily shrugged. "Why not you?"

Draco shrewdly eyed his best mate with a grimace. Theo's eyes were bloodshot and slightly glazed over. He was in as much condition to stand as Ginny was. Draco growled lowly in his throat and pushed to his feet. He drained the last of his drink in one shot and gave Theo one last withering look before heading over to the dance floor to retrieve the inebriated redhead.

Why did it have to be him? Theo was too busy drinking, Justin had buggered off to the corner of the bar to chat up some nerdy-looking female Muggle, Seamus was cheering the game with mates and Lavender was too busy dry-humping some poor bloke's leg. That left Draco, arguably the most sober person there.

As prepared as he was to just flash his way over to Ginny, snatch her by the roots of her ginger hair and yank her out of the pub, he merely stood and observed her for a moment. She looked relaxed. That was easy to tell from the lazy smile that graced her face, which made her look even younger than the normal youthful appearance she sported. She was swaying her hips back and forth in some kind of dance, and when she lifted her hands in the air, it caused her relatively short skirt to hitch-up about mid-thigh.

Why had she come out to the pub dressed so . . . provocatively?

A tick began to work in Draco's jaw when he realised he wasn't the only person admiring Ginny's form and attire, or the fact she looked about two seconds from passing out. So he moved like a phantom through the crowd and reached Ginny in a matter of seconds. Her eyes were still closed and she continued to dance with her invisible partner, as the two beefy blokes had moved off the moment they saw what they assumed was a jealous boyfriend charging their way.

Draco peered down at Ginny, taking note of her clear complexion, despite the freckles, and the long dark eyelashes that fanned against her cheeks like whip-marks. Her full breasts were pushed up thanks to some kind of brassier and, despite the underlining scent of alcohol that was no doubt streaming through her pores, he could detect hints of sandalwood and Shea butter coming from her skin.

Draco tilted her chin up with his index finger. He didn't smile. He only glared at her. Ginny's eyes fluttered open, crashing into a pair of angry silver-grey.

"Hey you!"

Draco snorted and stepped away from her. The heat coming from the redhead was slowly strumming his body to life and Draco was too pissed and knackered to be aroused right now.

"Let's go," he ordered, and her bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

"Why?"

"Because I'm your babysitter or designated driver or whatever for the night and I want to go home."

"I don't date co-workers," she said suddenly, and Draco turned towards her in confusion. "Or clients or partners."

"What does that have to do with any—"

But before Draco could finish his sentence, a burly blond brushed past him. The bigger man had practically bowled Draco over in his attempt to tackle-hug the petite witch.

"Ginny!"

"Cormac!" the redhead managed to shout, before the air in her lungs was completely squeezed out. Cormac had her lifted off the ground in a bone-crushing bear hug. "I thought I told you to keep away from the dance clubs."

"This is a pub!"

Ginny looked as though she was quickly losing consciousness, so she tapped out, smacking Cormac's brawny bicep until he put her down and let go. The witch then smoothed her hands down the length of her corset and glanced around.

"If this is a pub, then why's everyone dancing?"

"Cause you and Brown asked the bartender to turn up the music and started dancing," Draco said, coming up from behind, "luring all the boys onto the floor."

"Oh." Ginny blinked sleepily and grabbed onto Draco's arm for support.

Draco put a hand on the redhead's shoulder, steadying her, and not-so-subtly reminding Cormac who exactly Ginny had come to the pub with. The Puddlemere United Keeper surprisingly caught on quickly and was about to walk away when his glazed-over eyes really focussed on his competition. Those same eyes widened considerably in recognition.

"_Malfoy_?"

"McLaggen."

"W-wot are you doing here?"

"I was just leaving," Draco said, putting his hand on the small of Ginny's back as he guided her away, "and so was Weasley."

"With you?"

"With me."

Draco left the dance floor and a gobsmacked Cormac behind as he steered Ginny towards a slightly quieter section of the pub. Unperturbed, the redhead continued to sway to the music, which was in competition with the football game on the telly. And as he stood beside her in bodyguard mode, Draco quickly began to question his sanity—like why he had decided to join Ginny and her team of yokels for a drink at the pub and why he was currently babysitting the redhead.

"So, what's the story with you and Cormac?" he asked.

Ginny leaned in close, her bare shoulder brushing against his chest. "Hmm?"

He repeated the question and her expression soured.

"No comment," she mumbled, quickly scanning the area for unattended drinks.

"C'mon, we all do embarrassing things," Draco cajoled, ". . . and people."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his chest still burning with alcohol, and Ginny laughed. It was a twinkling laugh, like bells. Pleasant. Then she swatted at his arm and grabbed a hold of his bicep, causing him to involuntarily flex.

"You're horrible," she said, and Draco couldn't help but grin.

"Eh, you love me."

At the mention of the L-word, both suddenly went mute. Music and cheers from sports enthusiasts drowned out any words that could have possibly been spoken, relieving them of the obligation to continue their conversation.

Meanwhile, Draco tried to mentally take back the moment and Ginny swayed on her feet, nicking a drink from an unsuspecting patron. She seemed to be on this radial plane that consisted of drinking and bumping into him at all angles. It probably would have been cute, if he wasn't so very knackered and grumpy.

"All right, then," Draco huffed, grabbing a twirling Ginny by the arm. "You've had enough."

"What are you, the alcohol police?"

"You're legless. You can barely stand." He took her drink and gave it to some equally sloshed blonde. "C'mon, I'm taking you home. Grab your purse and let's go."

He turned around without checking to make sure she followed, being the cool bloke that he was. Apparently Ginny had obeyed because she had her purse in one hand and was clutching at his forearm with the other as he dragged her out of the pub.

The cool air hit them at all once and Ginny wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to keep from shivering. It failed. Draco noted her state and took off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She must have left her coat inside and he was too tired and impatient to go back and find it.

They walked out onto the curb and Draco hailed a taxicab. Being the more sober one, he had briefly considered Side-Along Apparating them both to Ginny's flat but quickly decided against it. He didn't fancy accidentally splinching a body part—his or hers.

A black cab pulled up and Draco opened the door for Ginny, helping her inside. He gave the cab driver Ginny's address and, after a few minutes of driving and awkward silence, they pulled up to her tower block. Draco then paid the driver and helped Ginny into the building.

Once inside the lift, she leaned into him. "I used to hate you, you know."

"Hate me?" A pale eyebrow swept up into his hairline. "Sounds like the beginning of a love story to me."

Ginny's eyes bulged and she quickly bowed her head, dropping her gaze to her feet.

Draco frowned and moved in closer, careful not to knock her over. It was then, in the fluorescent lighting, that he noticed the flush on her cheeks and neck weren't from the alcohol. She was blushing. _He_ had made her blush.

When they finally got off the lift, which seemed to take forever, Draco escorted Ginny to her door. He awkwardly cleared his throat as she fumbled about for her keys. A few seconds later, she had found them and the door was opened.

Ginny stumbled inside, recovered, flicked on the foyer light and turned around to face him. "Did you want to come in for a drink?"

Draco breathed deeply. An attractive woman was inviting him into her flat. Why did she have to look so fetching? Why did she have to be so inebriated? Why did she have to be a Weasley? And why did he have to be a gentleman at this very moment?

"No, I shouldn't," he found himself saying, and Ginny frowned.

"Oh, okay."

Draco caught the redhead's look of plummeting self-esteem and he shook his head. "N-no, I didn't mean it like _that_."

"Then what way did you mean it?"

"I—"

She took a step towards him and he could smell the sweat on her skin. It wasn't appealing or unappealing, but it was visceral in the imagery it was provoking. Thoughts of him making her sweat, of having her writhe beneath him in pleasure, flitted through his mind and those images were as terrifying as they were erotic.

He was attracted to her.

Draco watched as Ginny closed her eyes and leaned forward. She looked so trusting, so vulnerable. He suddenly felt nauseated and took a step back. No matter how provocative Ginny looked in that moment, no matter how willing she was, he could never take advantage of a drunken woman.

Well, no—he really just couldn't take advantage of her.

"G'night, Ginny."

He bent down and softly kissed her forehead. When he pulled back, her eyelids fluttered open and she brought her fingers to her forehead in mild disbelief. She didn't say a word; she just watched him with those big soulful brown eyes of hers before he turned away and left.

Sometimes being the gentleman was utter bollocks.

**.**

**.**

**.**


	13. Never Gonna Be Friends

THERE WERE SOME days that Ginny really hated being short. Not that she was treated as a child or mistaken for one when out and about, but the height deficiency always put her at a disadvantage, especially when she didn't (or forgot to) have her wand on hand and needed to acquire or re-shelf something.

Her current predicament had her trying to retrieve a book from her personal library, which she now had thanks to vacating the other tenants from her office building. Standing on her toes, Ginny extended her right arm as far as it could go and just barely managed to snag the spine of the book with her fingers. But just as soon as she had the damnable thing in her clutches, she lost her footing and tumbled backwards onto her arse.

Embarrassment coloured her cheeks and Ginny warily sat up, wiping imaginary dust from the palms of her hands. When she finally managed to rise to her feet, her hands flew to her sore bottom with a grimace. She could feel a bruise already forming; the skin was raw and tender to the touch.

It was while rubbing her rear end that Ginny caught sight of a dark figure in her peripheral vision.

"Hurt yourself?" Draco asked with an upturned eyebrow.

He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, looking all manners of delicious, though Ginny would sooner die rather than admit as much.

"No, I just like rubbing my bottom," she quipped, before sighing irritably. She hadn't seen Draco for two days, not since the drunken almost-kiss mishap at her flat. "Work been busy?"

He nodded in answer, watching as Ginny hobbled her way over to a chair that she dare not sit upon. She must have fallen harder than she thought for her tailbone felt bruised and cracked. She ignored the sharp pinching pain, chalking it up to the awkwardness of her fall, and threw the book she had managed to save down onto the table next to her briefcase.

"You're sure you're fine?" Draco asked, his silver-grey eyes cascading down her body like a caress.

She flushed slightly under his scrutiny, even though there was nothing sexual about the way in which he was staring at her. It almost reminded her of the time he had caught her from falling at the Richmond Park mansion. It was only a casual concern. Ginny had accredited the almost-kiss at her flat as casual concern too, and temporary insanity on her part. Fortunately Draco had enough sense to see the folly in it.

Ginny dropped her eyes to her feet and felt her backside again with a wince. It was sore, throbbing like a pulse. Maybe she had broken it. She really didn't want Draco around when she started making that puckered wounded face or sobbing like an infant who liked to watch herself cry in the mirror. That would be dreadful. She'd never live it down.

"What happened?" He moved in close until he was standing directly behind her, sweeping her lower body for injuries.

"I was trying to retrieve a book and I lost my balance and fell. End of story." She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the pain and the likelihood that his eyes were fixed on her arse. "I might have bruised my tailbone."

Suddenly Ginny felt pressure on the top cleft of her arse where the bone met and she gasped. "What do you think you're do—"

"Relax, Weasley, I'm not trying to cop a feel." His warm breath was on her neck, distracting. "I'm just checking to see if you've broken anything."

"Y-you can tell?" His fingers were gentle and warm and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from sighing. "What are you, a healer now?"

"Yes, I can tell if you've broken anything, and no, I'm not a healer."

Ginny flinched as his finger became slightly more invasive and the pain became a little less tolerable. "H-how—oww!—do you know about these kinda things?"

Draco shifted on his feet, but he didn't remove his hand. "Shortly after the war I spent a few years in obscurity. At my trial Potter had spoken on my behalf to have the charges against me dropped and, well, none of it seemed quite right. You know?"

Ginny nodded dumbly. At the time, she hadn't been sure why Harry had done it. They even had a row about it. But ever since Snape, Harry had tried not to judge people so quickly. He gave everyone the benefit of the doubt first and, after a while, Ginny had to begrudgingly admit that Draco was relatively harmless. The young Malfoy heir had managed to stay out of the papers and, according to a shocked Hermione, had even donated vast sums of money to numerous charities, all anonymously.

Perhaps she had been wrong to sling the philanthropist barb at him.

"I was embarrassed and humiliated," Draco continued, his eyes still focussed on her injury, "and so I decided to lay low for a while before re-introducing myself to society.

"I ended up staying with a distant uncle in France. He was a doctor. And before you interrupt, yes he was a Muggle doctor, although I guess you could call him a Squib. I served as his apprentice and he taught me a bit about medicine and Muggles in general, really."

"I see." Ginny exhaled slowly, not really sure what else to say. She knew he had disappeared for a few years, but she never imagined he would have been doing something so mundane. "Is he the one who taught you how to cook?"

He shook his head with a snort. "No-no, Uncle Jean couldn't boil water to save his life. It was his Muggle wife, Lysette, who had taught me the finer points of domesticity."

Draco's finger moved south and Ginny hissed through her teeth as white-hot pain licked up her tailbone like a whip against skin. Applying just a tad bit more pressure, Draco felt around with his middle finger before mercifully pulling away.

"Well, it looks like you haven't broken it, just bruised it a little."

A little? It felt like she had been trampled by a herd of buffalo.

"You'll be sore for a while," he informed her, folding his arms across his chest, "and sitting will be difficult for a day or two, but you're otherwise unharmed."

"T-thank you."

Ginny frowned. She hadn't expected him to open up to her so easily. She hadn't expected a lot of things from Draco, like him making her dinner or coming to her rescue or being a gentleman who escorted her home when she was too blotto to stand or not taking advantage of her in said drunken state. And yet here he was, still amazing her. Draco Malfoy was swiftly becoming a man full of surprises, and Ginny was surprising herself because she found herself wanting to know more about the man and not just the wizard.

Gulping somewhat nervously, she side-stepped around him and picked up her book. He was already behind her, gazing down at her with those penetrating silver-grey eyes of his.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" His tone was somewhat suggestive, and Ginny couldn't help but gape at him.

A second later she shook her head, despite the varying traitorous images that paraded around in her head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

Draco frowned but didn't say anything, and then he slowly strolled out of the room.

Ginny went in the opposite direction and stood in front of one of the large windows overlooking the Quarter. For some inexplicable reason she felt the need to put some distance between them. She was becoming far too comfortable around him, and yet his close proximity made her feel like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush.

_He_ made her nervous.

But lately Draco didn't seem to want to keep any distance between them. Instead, he turned around and sauntered back into the library. A few seconds later he joined her at the window.

"So I sacked my personal assistant yesterday," he said, by way of conversation, and Ginny turned towards him.

"Yvonne Bauer?"

"I'm surprised you remembered her name," he said, sounding slightly impressed, and Ginny smiled up at him.

"Well, I've always been good with names." She walked back over to her briefcase and pulled out a manila folder. "Plus I did a background check on her after she and I had first _met_ at your place. Did a little digging, too." She handed him the file and he took it with a frown. "Sorry, I had meant to get a hold of you today and give this to you, but it looks like you found me first."

Draco casually flipped through the pages. "So you knew she was the one who had called the Ministry on me?"

"I did say I'd find out who the anonymous tipster was, didn't I?" Ginny drummed her fingers on the table. "I knew she looked familiar when I saw her at your place. I had seen her at the Ministry earlier that morning. She was probably the same 'redhead'—" she made finger quotes "—Urara and her cousin had met with outside my flat."

"She was stalking you to get to me?" Draco asked, a little shocked before sighing irritably. "Sorry about that. Although I don't know why she bothered hassling you."

"Well, stalkers generally like to remove any obstacles in their path." Ginny shrugged. "She saw me as competition for your attention, I suppose."

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "But that's the part I don't get—her stalking you. Corporate espionage doesn't usually extend past the target company and CEOs."

"Corporate espionage?"

"Yvonne Bauer is the niece of Gerry Kinsdale," Draco said, "one of Malfoy Enterprises biggest business rivals."

"And you fired her because you thought she was a corporate spy?" Draco slowly nodded and Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "She wasn't a spy, Malfoy—or at least corporate spying wasn't her main objective."

"What do you mean?"

Ginny pointed at the folder. "Read the file. But, if you want a quick synopsis, she's an ex of yours. Of course calling her an ex is being generous. You slept with her and then snubbed her at a party a few days later. Since then, she's been obsessed with you."

Draco opened the folder and quickly scanned its contents. He glanced back up at Ginny and his brow knitted in a deep frown. "How do you know all of this?"

"Because I'm good at what I do," Ginny retorted with a sniff. "I did some digging and questioned her boyfriend—that beefy Auror who raided your penthouse." She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "He told me she's been obsessed with you ever since you slept with her. The poor idiot knew this and still went along with her plans."

"But why would she report me to the Ministry?"

Ginny shrugged indifferently. "Infatuated people do crazy things."

"And her boyfriend went along with it, knowing his nutter of a girlfriend was in love with me?"

Ginny smirked and shrugged yet again. "Love makes you do the wacky."

Draco shook his head and both he and Ginny were silent for a moment. Ginny felt an odd and sudden urge to flee the room, but then Draco did something she hadn't expected: he stepped in close and bent his head down towards her.

Ginny let out a barely audible gasp and tried not to step back. She didn't want him to know how much his proximity affected her, even though she could barely breathe. And then Draco ran the spine of the folder down her bare arm and she couldn't stop from shivering.

"So I heard you don't date co-workers or clients," he said lowly, "or friends."

Ginny swallowed thickly and slowly shook her head before chancing to meet his gaze. His eyes were fixed on hers, his pupils dilated to the point where only a thin ring of grey was visible. Then her gaze travelled down to his mouth, entranced. His pale lips had curved into a smirk and he brought his free hand to her cheek, barely caressing it.

"Good thing we're not friends, then."

She closed her eyes and juddered at his touch.

Her emotional reaction to his caress was so sudden, so hot and so completely without connection to her practical life that at first Ginny's mind simply floundered, with no idea at all how to cope with this unexpected burst of fireworks. For a moment she was like a racing broom that had suddenly halted and was hovering in mid-air—although it was still airborne and full of magic, nothing was happening. Then the broom re-engaged and everything slipped smoothly back into place and she was off again.

"W-why did you invest in my firm?"

Draco dropped his hand with a frown. "This again, huh?" He took in a deep breath and sighed. "Routine becomes stagnant after a while, Weasley. I needed a little adventure in my life, and I just so happen to like you."

Draco had spoken with such simplicity that Ginny couldn't read anything more into what he had just confessed. But being a woman she would probably spend the next hour or two dissecting his words just for the hell of it, and end up driving herself half mad in the process.

"So there was never an ulterior motive where I was concerned?"

His lips lifted into a crooked grin. "I am a man, Weasley, and men are always up to something."

And with that, Draco lifted the folder she had given him and briefly inclined his head in thanks. He then exited the room, leaving a confused and slightly sexually frustrated Ginny alone with her thoughts, anxieties and, regrettably, her doubts.

**.**

**.**

**.**

THE REST OF the week had been rather uneventful, aside from handling an influx of new clients. Fortunately the recent cases were simple enough for her staff to handle without her supervision, allowing Ginny to take the evening off.

The sun was still relatively high in the sky, stubbornly refusing to set. Summer was fast-approaching, replacing constant rain showers with warm, sunny weather. Ginny had decided to use the opportunity to take an evening jog, allowing herself to unwind and bask in the fresh air and city sounds. Though she didn't enjoy it nearly as much as she should have with the constant nagging thoughts niggling at her mind.

Draco hadn't come back to the office once since they had last spoken in the library, and Ginny oddly found herself missing his presence. At first she thought it was a good thing, to separate herself from the temptation. He was becoming far too familiar with her and her with him. However, the absence only seemed to aggravate her with each passing day.

Damn clichés and their veracities!

Ginny took in a deep breath and wiped her dry but extremely hot brow. She glanced up at her tower block's stairwell and braced herself to tackle the steps. She was hot, thirsty and slightly out of breath. The stairs were going to kill her hamstrings and glutes. She had briefly considered taking the lift to her flat, but it really would have defeated the purpose of her exercising.

Several agonising minutes later and Ginny stumbled out of the fifteenth floor exit. She braced her hands on her knees and bent over, trying to catch her breath and will the rubbery feel of her legs back to life. Her muscles were aching and her lungs were burning but she felt good, despite the fact that her body was running like an overheated furnace.

"Salazar's left nut! You look like you've stuck your head in an oven, Weasley."

"W-wot?"

Ginny glanced up to see Draco standing beside her door. He was staring at her not quite distastefully but faintly curiously, and Ginny suddenly realised that she probably looked like a mad woman about to keel over. Her face was beet-red, like she had been out in the sun for too long or had been holding her breath like a toddler throwing a wobbler.

"I have small pores!" she defended, standing back up and awkwardly making her way over to the blond. "I don't sweat, which means I overheat, which is why I'm so red in the face."

Draco nodded slowly, either unconvinced or taking the piss. Probably both. Just then two girls in their early twenties came off the lift. They spotted Draco and smiled, whispering and giggling to each other as they blatantly tried to catch his eye.

Ginny couldn't help but glower at the overt display of oestrogen. Handsome men like Draco always drew attention from the fairer sex like moths to a flame. But it wasn't even like Draco was all that handsome, not conventionally so anyway. He was cut so sharply, his features uniquely fine and somewhat feminine, and yet he was beautiful because of those features. Or maybe he was just beautiful to her.

Embarrassed at her own thoughts, Ginny watched the girls walk past them on the way to their own flat. She gathered her courage and craned her neck to stare up at Draco. He was looking at her and only her. This shouldn't have made her blush, but it did. She shouldn't have been happy about this, but she was.

She really was.

"Are you all right? Do you need something to drink?" He reached out to touch her cheek and she flinched. "You look like you're about to faint."

Ginny nodded slowly, still catching her breath—though no longer out of breath from the exertion. After a moment of fumbling, she retrieved her flat key from a hidden pocket in her yoga shorts and turned towards the door. She pushed the key into the lock and paused, turning around to face Draco.

Why was he here?

"Why are you here?"

Draco slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall. "I thought we'd discuss when you'd like to take our trip to Dubai."

"_Our_ trip?" Ginny touched her cheeks, which felt like they were on fire. "I thought that was just for appearances, so you wouldn't have to take someone you didn't like."

"You are correct."

"But then—"

"I don't dislike your company, Weasley," he said brusquely, shoving off the wall. "And a promise is a promise."

Ginny dropped her hands. "Wait, are you asking me out on a date?"

"No, I—well, I'm not entirely sure." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and cocked his head to the side. "Will you say yes if I do?"

Ginny went temporarily mute, opening and closing her mouth in shock. Not knowing what to do, except that she couldn't possibly continue to look Draco in the eye, Ginny shoved the key into the lock and opened the door.

"I-I don't date co-workers," she muttered, "or partners."

"Then we won't be partners," he said, stepping into the threshold while Ginny took a step back. "I'll remain a silent investor."

"All just to go on a weekend trip? You can't be that hard-up for a date, Malfoy."

Draco's grey eyes instantly narrowed in anger and he turned around. "Never mind. Forget I even asked."

Ginny's mind stalled for a moment and she stood rooted to the spot. Then, as she watched him head for the lift, heading away from _her_, her mind shifted back into gear and she could move again.

"Malfoy, wait!"

She ran out the door and called his name again. By the third call he had spun around to face her, looking positively livid.

"What for? You want to skirt the issue some more, pretend you don't have feelings for me and list some more excuses as to why you can't go on a bloody date with me?" He took a step towards her and she unconsciously took a step back. "Why don't you just come right out and tell me you don't like me, Weasley? C'mon! Say it!"

"B-but I do!" Ginny blurted, balling her hands into fists. "I _do_ like you!" She was so angry she was trembling; so embarrassed she wanted to find a hole to immediately crawl into and die.

Draco's pale eyebrows rose in surprise at words, and then in scepticism. He couldn't believe her, not right away, so he began analysing Ginny with those shrewd slate grey eyes of his. She could hardly blame his uncertainty. Draco probably wasn't used to people saying they liked him—certainly not old enemies.

"I don't have any—I'm not good at relationships," he finally admitted, suddenly looking rather awkward. "I tend to bugger things up before they even start."

Ginny's shoulders instantly relaxed and she sighed. "I'm not a pro at dating, either. I've only been with a handful of men. And besides, I'm not expecting you to be perfect. Perfect is boring and it isn't the _perfect_ Malfoy whom I've come to like."

The two stared at each other in silence, standing in the thankfully empty hallway just outside her door. Draco was obviously trying his best not to look cocky but appear coy instead. He was managing poorly, but it was still cute to watch him try.

"So what Malfoy do you like, then?" he asked, and Ginny let out a short breathless laugh.

She closed her eyes with a painful wince. Of course he'd ask something like that, something that required her being vulnerable and open with her feelings. But the cat was out of the bag now. What could she possibly say?

The real problem was that Ginny was rubbish at flirting. Sure, she used to be fantastic at it at school, but the lack of dating these past few years seemed to have her reverted to her shy eleven year old self. Now when Ginny saw a guy she liked, she became incoherent, smiled maniacally or acted like a cold fish to distance herself. She had a feeling this last tactic wasn't working well with Draco and now she'd actually have to, Merlin forbid, tell him the truth.

"I like the Malfoy who tells me the truth without sugarcoating it or beating around the bush," she confessed. "The Malfoy who'll have my back, even if he gives me grief about it after the fact. The Malfoy who likes Muggle things, although he'd rather be killed by a legion of cats than admit that out loud."

Draco snorted but didn't deny her words.

"I like you because you deserve to be liked, Malfoy . . . _Draco_." She trembled slightly at her own words before steeling her nerves once more. "I've just been too blinded by my own biases to see it, but I see it now. I see _you_.

"You push me and I push you back. We challenge each other and, well, I don't want to be friends with you. I don't want that. I want . . . more."

She trailed off with a shrug, feeling monumentally embarrassed. Who recited confessions like that? It felt like some play gone horribly wrong and he now probably thought she was a freak, or more of a freak.

But Draco said nothing, not at first. Instead, he took a moment to seriously mull over her words. Ginny wasn't expecting him to repeat her sentiments, and even if he did, she was entirely sure she'd believe him. But he had started this ball rolling, and who better than her to _keep_ that ball rolling?

Suddenly Draco took several steps towards her, until they were both standing in her doorway. She could make out a faint blush on his cheeks and she bit her lip to keep herself from saying something stupid, to stop herself from ruining the moment.

To be honest, she wasn't sure what to do right now. Her yardstick for measuring how someone should behave in a slightly romantic situation such as this consisted of romantic comedies. Within that framework, her reaction seemed normal enough. She had given her speech. Although she did recall that the heroine in these kind of stories was generally more attractive and less red-faced.

"So why are you standing there and not inviting me in?" Draco asked, and Ginny blinked once before taking a careful step back.

"Uh, come in, Draco."

He immediately crossed the threshold and cupped her face with his frighteningly large hands. "I'll end up hurting you at some point, you do know that."

"And I'll probably end up hurting you, too," she said, unwaveringly meeting his gaze. "But is any of this going to stop us?"

"No," he said, before slanting his mouth over hers.

Ginny had snogged her fair share of blokes before this moment, but for a second she was completely paralysed in Draco's embrace. She thought kissing him would be awkward or maybe even cold, like making out with a marble wall, but his lips were surprisingly soft and pliant, moulding perfectly over hers that it almost felt like this wasn't the first time their lips had locked together.

Hesitant at first, Ginny draped her arms over his shoulders and his hold tightened around her waist. He pulled her up against his body until she was standing on her toes and his tongue grazed the seam of her lips before penetrating. Their tongues circled and frolicked, delighted in their dance. One of his hands held her tightly at the small of her back while she threaded her fingers through the pale hair on the nape of his neck.

After a minute Draco pulled away first, his forehead resting against hers. It took some effort on both of their parts not to dive right back in.

"I'm ready to take this to the bed or the kitchen table or the floor," he suggested with a leer, and she rolled her eyes in admonishment.

"Don't ruin this moment by being you," she said, twining her arms around his neck. "It's way too soon for that."

"Yeah, I know." He pecked her lips. "And I don't want to be your friend, either."

Joy swept through her. "Really?"

"Really."

Without another word exchanged, Draco shut the door behind them with his foot and took Ginny's face into his hands. He then proceeded to thoroughly kiss her until she could no longer remember her own name.

And so ended the short-lived business partnership between Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley. Their new partnership, however, would become a scandal that would shock the wizarding world at large.

Too bad for the wizarding world.

**.**

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**FIN**

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**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: **So I know a lot of you wanted the Dubai date in this, but I have to admit that I am partial to how this story ended. I'm a sucker for 'fill in the blanks' sort of endings. Plus, it allows for sequels and the like. However, I have decided to give you, the reviewers, the option of whether or not you want me to write a separate one-shot set in Dubai (most likely smutty). I'm also considering a collection of one-shots based on the _Scandal_ world that focus on cases and Draco and Ginny's love life, etc. It would essentially be a series of inter-connected one-shots.

All I ask is that you simply don't review saying something like, 'SEQUEL OF SMUT, PLZ!' Please give a normal review, even if it's just to say 'nice ending!' or 'this sucks!', and then at the end of your review you can write yay or nay for the one-shot in Dubai or a collection of _Scandal_ one-shots. ;)


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